


TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets

by bearblue



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst, Blood stuff, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Mystery Illness, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Other, Planned to end well, Unfinished, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 23:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 77,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16670815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearblue/pseuds/bearblue
Summary: Andy only means to help when she makes an offer that a vampire can't refuse. Little does she realize her whole life is about to change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets
> 
> Pairing: Miranda / Andy / Emily /
> 
> Other?Maybe. Undecided. But definitely the above.
> 
> Rating: M, NC17, NSFW
> 
> Summary: Andy only means to help when she makes an offer that a vampire can't refuse. Little does she realize her whole life is about to change.
> 
> Words: This Work is still Beta and UNFINISHED!
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, which pretty well guarantees that " ownership, " of the some of the characters belongs to others (Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox) and that this work is entirely based on affection. This is not-for-profit, but for praise or at least enjoyment.
> 
> Beta Readers: Thank yous go to - Melanacious, LadyDragonstorm, Bonnie, Shesgottaread, and Blackgrl71 - my extraordinary friends.
> 
> Email: bearblue1
> 
> Website: .
> 
> A/N - Story is *UNFINISHED!* and like many of my other stories, it could linger for years that way or not. I am pulling this from fanfic net, where it was published because I just realized I hadn't put it here too. If you can deal with that, then it is my hope that you will find a joy in reading this.
> 
> A/N - All author notes and disclaimers are spoilery by nature, it's the nature of things.
> 
> A/N - This is a "get 'em together" story
> 
> A/N - This fiction likely draws from several sources for inspiration - it mostly follows TDWP movie canon as a starting point, however. I did do a few cameos you might spot, but not enough to call this a crossover yet. That could change. Also: The vampires and some otherkin in this story are pretty much completely of my own making and likely to drive someone nuts because they're not "true" vampires or monsters of some sort or another. This isn't an apology, so much as a *stamp* Non-traditional Common Monster Type *endstamp* warning. Hopefully, it's not too fluffy, but we'll just put out that the vampires in this story do not twinkle in the sunlight. Unless they're wearing glitter for a fashion thing. Not that I have anything against twinkling vampires. They're pretty too.
> 
> A/N - I hereby label this story AU. While it starts from the movie core, it is set in a reality that is both magical and dangerous. Here there be vampires and other spooky things. *stamp* AU *endstamp*
> 
> A/N - This story hints at blood-play and some tropes that contribute to a story of that nature. While it's very mild in comparison to some, there's always the hint of "danger" and stories get told and maybe a little blood and sex and who knows what will trigger some people so *stamp* AltSEX *endstamp*
> 
> A/N - This story has serious, definite hints of "bad things that happened to good people." And good people sometimes make life and death choices when sad or hurt. *stamp* TRIGGER Warning *endstamp* Also, it uses a standard "mystery illness," trope. Please forgive me. It's for the story. *stamp* TROPE! *endstamp*
> 
> A/N - Plural/Poly relationships happen to be one of my favorite playgrounds. *stamp* POLYAMORY *endstamp*
> 
> A/N - This story uses mystical creatures of the dangerous kind setting, which means that some events are darker and more dangerous and possibly unfriendly. *stamp* MAYHEM! *endstamp*
> 
> A/N - I have decided, just for my sanity, that family and really good friend names shall remain generally consistent. Thus, Andy's father is Richard and her mother is CeCe, etc. This will go for Miranda's family and friends too. For instance, Miranda has a very good friend, Nan and her two canon daughters, Caroline and Cassidy. The family rule, shall remain consistent across my DWP stories. Though you may see them behaving differently according to their different realities, I shall make some effort to keep characterizations consistent also.
> 
> A/N - This story has dollops of angst, but I am not prone to ending stories badly.
> 
> LJ Tags: all: fiction, user: bearblue, rating: nc-17, pairing: andy/miranda, status: incomplete, genre: romance, genre: spooky
> 
> Note: I plan to update one to two chapters at a time until I'm caught up with fanfic net.

The last thing Andrea Sachs from Cincinnati, Ohio had ever thought she'd be doing in her life, was arguing with a down-on-his-luck vampire about why it was okay to donate a little blood. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to get him back on his feet and on his way. "Look, Vlad," she said, though that was not his name. He'd refused to give it to her. "I used to donate at the Red Cross. I haven't got any catchy diseases, though I may be flavored a little differently than you're used to. I got a tiny medical condition, but haven't medicated aside from the alcohol in a couple of weeks, so there isn't going to be any funky flavors you wouldn't expect. It's no big deal. I haven't got to be anywhere tomorrow or the next day. You haven't attacked me out of hand, so you're not a newbie, and you're arguing with me, so you're not interested in killing me. I don't mind loaning a few pints, especially if it keeps you from taking some irresponsibly later, because you can't stop yourself. All I ask, nay demand, is that you don't drink me dry, you don't enslave me, keep me against my will, and you don't turn me. Oh, and get me a cab so I can get home. I'll pay, but I don't have any numbers for the cabs in this town. I'm staying at..." Andy pawed a back pocket of her True Religion jeans and then carefully read the card out loud. She tucked the card back. "It's not the best hotel, but it's swank enough for me."

Vlad stared at Andy, from across a barstool, and then blinked. Slowly. The hotel she mentioned was far more than swank and was a very upscale casino in Las Vegas. Andy, who hadn't looked at him once she'd started her spiel, took another healthy sip of the whiskey she'd ordered. There was no follow up cough, but a smooth sigh that escaped her lush red lips.

She had been effectively drinking out a frustration before the conversation. The brunette, with short, spiky hair, let the wheel of the stool carry her around so she was facing the man. He was taller and much skinnier than her, though he had been slouching more. He was pretty in a pale, but dark and handsome kind of way. His eyes were an incredible blue.

Andy owned that might be why she'd even started talking with him.

"Why would you offer this?" His words held a touch of wonder and a hint of foreign lands that had been domesticated by North American English.

Andy considered, gazing at him with kind, but firm expression. Her eyes were a toasted brown that one could get lost in. "You need it. You're a sentient being, and not evil. Everyone deserves a helping hand now and then. It's a new experience for me. I might write about it, if you don't mind, but I wouldn't name names. I just like writing."

Now he showed his teeth, flashing them as if to scare her. "And how do you know I'm not evil."

She didn't even flinch. "I just do. But if it makes you feel any better, I've read and researched a lot. I was a journalist and I have a cousin..."

"Ah. A relative." The vampire's expression suddenly lightened, though his expression remained serious. He asked, very carefully, watching her eyes, "Do you know your cousin's... blood family."

"He probably told me once, but it's not something that I've kept locked in my heart or anything." That was a tiny little fib, but a necessary one. No need to frighten the vampire, after all, he wasn't the one who'd caused family uproar. Andy considered, "He has a tattoo." She pointed at the webbing between her thumb and index finger on her right hand. "It's like the hospital sigil, only with one snake instead of two."

The vampire's expression did more than soften. It opened. "Asclepius."

Andrea pointed. "Yes. That's it."

He stared at her, not quite open mouthed. "What are you?"

Andy looked past his shoulder, at the clock on the wall over the back restroom hallway, "Ready to go back to the hotel, I think." Then she looked at him, and gave him a truer answer, "I'm nothing special, Vlad. I can tell you that much."

"Not just any one is accepted into Asclepius." It had nothing to do with acceptance, but the word was closest to one he could give her. They were a kind, very special, only bound to clan by choice, never by blood or coercion; even if they were turned.

"That's my cousin. I'm just a relative."

The vampire reached and then dropped his hand before grasping hers. "You do not understand."

"There's a lot I don't understand about a lot of things, Vlad. But this I know, you've had a rough turn. You're an okay guy. I'm not offering out of pity. I'm offering because I can, while I can. But my conditions are firm."

Vlad turned away and stared at the drink he'd been nursing. Then, he picked it up and in one fell swoop finished it off. "I accept your conditions, but prefer privacy." He certainly couldn't reject the offer, not now.

Andy nodded. "Sure."

Privacy where vampires are concerned might connote shadowy corners in a dark alleyway in the pitch of night. However, despite legends, most vampires walked in daylight just as well as night; any hour was fine so long as they were fit. The inability to handle light had more to do with the kind of vampire one was and their age, rather than the mere point of being one. So when Vlad said someplace private, Andy knew that was all he meant.

They went for a walk, to a nice tree-filled, blue-sky park; one with a baseball diamond and sundry other run and play in the dirt spaces and enough people around, she could scream for help if she wanted. They found a quiet bench, one that did in fact, sit comfortably in the shade and out of the way, but one that wasn't too far from the road either.

"Are you..." he started to ask. Pride kept his voice quiet, but his eyes remained sharp.

"Sure." Andy said firmly. She finally said, just as quietly, "I hear your people's politics can be hell. I have no interest in the shenanigans, but If it were my cousin, in your state, I'd hope someone would."

The vampire nodded sharply, once, but did not mention that it really was the opposite. Her cousin would never have such a worry.

Or rather shouldn't.

Actually, considering, he shouldn't have had such a worry either, but his fall had more to do with heartbreak than with politics. Well. Perhaps a little of both.

"Normally, I would prefer a room, but I am not ready to be with another."

Andy exhaled, and then nodded. "I hear you bro."

A wealth of sorrow poured into those meager words, but it caused a flicker of a smile to slide across his face. He held his hand out, "Your arm please?"

Andrea wore a short sleeve blouse, fortunately dark, so all she had to do was extend her arm, wrist up. She had been hoping to get a good farmer's tan, but so far had only managed farmer's freckles. One took what one could get.

His grip was surprisingly delicate when his hands captured both her hand and her arm. She watched this with a near-clinical eye, noting how his fingernails were just a little longer than she normally saw men wear. His pale skin was not sallow or like a dead fish's; it was just several shades lighter than hers.

He did not look at her, but rather at her arm, with an intensity that spoke of a man watching the pulse, contemplating the universe, or praying before a meal. It could have been all of the above. She'd read about a religious sect of vampires. They weren't too good a sect. In fact, they were very bad and murderous according to the research, but they were devout and they existed. This one, she knew, did not and would not ever be involved with such.

She expected something like a snake strike. But he lifted her arm and she felt the briefest hint of lips pressing, which sent a surprising flutter along her skin, and then...

She'd read that there were a multitude of kinds of bites that could be delivered. Her cousin, in that one discussion they'd had, explained that his first bite (delivered to him, not given by) had been excruciating.

So she kind of expected pain, no, honestly, she'd anticipated it in a near self-flagellating way. These days she valued all the sensation she could get in her life.

She barely felt the prick, though she did feel the slide of the teeth, pushing through her skin, and though that sensation should have been odd, if nothing else, she could not have qualified it as anything other than wonderful and bizarrely familiar.

Her pulse seemed to slam south and all along her skin and up her arm. A sudden wetness pooled between her legs, as heat gathered there. Her exhale was an expulsion of pleasure, and her inhale a surprise, as if she thought she might forget to breathe.

It was more intimate than a kiss, nearly more intimate than sex. Maybe it just was sex. She thought she could hear his voice in her head, saying "My god. My god!"

But that couldn't be possible. So she ignored the voice and surrendered to the moment.

The orgasm was a butterfly of a thing, pulsing and fluttering and landing on the petals of her thoughts in random order. Her next exhale was of a thing she most wanted and could not have, "Miranda." She came again, twice as hard, but with that same delicate effect.

She felt lightheaded when he pulled away. She saw his tongue dart once over her wrist, watched in dazed amazement as the wound of two open holes impossibly closed.

When she looked up his eyes, still very, very blue, were bright and shining. His skin was ruddy. But his expression was desperate. "Please Andy, you must not. You must promise me that you will not."

"Vlad..." Somehow, even in her pleasurable haze, she knew what he was talking about, could keep up with the thought. After all, he didn't have to ask her her name and he probably knew everything about her by now. She'd read they could do that, could know a person's life and history, just by the drinking. It's why, even though they were completely capable of drinking bagged blood, they hated doing that. They were people curious about others and bagged just didn't carry the same psychic images. Or chemicals. Plastic, she heard, ruined everything. Glass on the other hand offered new potential, and explained their penchant for mixed drinks.

"Thomas. My name is Thomas."

"Tom." She shortened his name automatically. He didn't wince, but he still had not let go of her hand. "I can't make that promise at all. I've got places to see and things to do. The clock is ticking. I best do them while I can and then…." She smiled, and did not name three states in the U.S.A., each with their own requirements and paths to the end. Those weren't the only ways which had turned up on her internal list, which he knew as well as she did. Her parents certainly knew and they'd argued and argued for her to go back to Ohio and stay home, where they could care for her, but she couldn't; not while there were sunrises and sunsets to see.

Instead she raised her other hand to his face, let her palm rest there. "You look much, much better. Thank you for making this such a positive experience. It was completely different than my cousin said it would be."

It took him a moment to answer. "I sorrow for your cousin then." He did not mention that it was likely her cousin had been a far less willing participant. He paused again, "Let me take you home. To rest and recuperate."

"Yeah. It's probably time. I should eat." He was staring at her so intensely and it was hard to keep her eyes open. "You remember the name of the hotel right?"

He said yes, as her eyes closed, just to rest them for a moment. She did not remember the cab ride, but she did have a sense of floating for awhile.

\- TDWP -

She awakened slowly, on her belly, with an arm around a pillow and the other arm flung out, feeling heavy and warm. She heard unexpected sounds, but her eyelids were still too heavy to do more than leave closed. So she listened to the sound of waves and birds that no way lived in the state she was most recently at. She drew in a breath, tasted salt in the air and smelled something wonderful, food, and felt the brush of warm wind against her bare skin. That was when she realized she was naked, though her legs were entangled with cloth; a sheet.

She really didn't want to wake from this new dream, which seemed to be much better and more profound than her previous dream. She let a muffled protest, a grunt of denial, paint the air and then forced her eyes to open.

She then, despite her previous and lingering lethargy, managed to sit up abruptly. "Where..." Before she finished the question, and as she took in the ocean view through a sliding glass door, one of which was open, she heard two knocks.

She scrambled, pulling up the sheets, just enough to cover, but not enough to do much else. "Come in."

It was the only way to get an explanation.

A man in a uniform wheeled in a cart with a massive covered tray and sundries. Briefly, Andy wondered why she didn't have a headache, then forgot it, as she marveled at the delivery and the young man's quick pace in setting up a table. Before she could ask more, the young man turned to her and said, "Master Thomas says you must eat. He regrets he cannot accompany you at this time. But he said to convey to you that his home, is your home. You may do as you please, though he asks that should you leave, you take someone with you. Even if you plan something farther than town. It is for your protection. Your belongings..." He pointed now, at a closed door, "... are in there. They have been unpacked. Is there any other way I may serve?"

Andy wasn't entirely sure he actually breathed while he said all that. She had a zillion questions, but couldn't think of one clearly enough, given the hunger then suddenly seemed all pressing. "I'm okay for now," she managed. Then she said, thinking of her credit card and the hotel, which obviously she was not in now, "Did someone cancel my hotel accommodations, by any chance?" Not that, really, she needed to worry; but she'd always been fiscally responsible.

The young man blinked, as if surprised that she should mention such a mundane detail, "Yes."

"Thanks then. I guess I'll eat and shower. I might want answers to questions later, if someone is available."

"I will make it known."

Andy waited until the young man bowed his way out the door and then her whole expression changed. "Wow!"

Had she stepped in a deep pool or what?

\- TDWP -

She ended up doing the opposite, realizing she wasn't quite comfortable with wearing a sheet while she ate something so beautiful. She hurried. It wasn't until she was in the shower and had actually soaped up and was rinsing off, that she noticed the difference. And it was with consternation that she lifted her hands to look at the backs of them. Between the webbing of one thumb and index on one hand was almost the same sigil her cousin had. On the other, was what looked like a golden, glowing apple, ringed by a halo.

She was pretty sure she hadn't stopped at a tattoo parlor, even at her drunkest. Though she'd come close on one particular dread day, when all she'd wanted was Miranda. All over her. A word, however, would have never done. Not when she needed the real thing.

"Oh. Shoot fire."

\- TDWP -

Once dressed, and feeling a bit more intrepid since she had her panic sit down in the shower moment, Andy ate the sumptuous meal with hardly any reservations. Though, she did eat with her back to the wall and her eye on the rolling case, which she'd pulled out of the closet and had half-packed already.

The food calmed her, where the packing had not. The urge to make a getaway via the deck had disappeared as soon as she'd seen how high up her room actually was, and she'd taken a moment to actually take stock of the room; which was hardly enclosed and there was no barbed wire or iron fence or anything really that shouted "prison."

She realized this was her fault. She understood that she had underestimated that vampire impulse to literal interpretations; when they wanted to be literal. He was the one who had said home, not she. So here she was.

To rest and recuperate and...

She tried not to stare at her hands again and just shoveled a forkful of deliciousness into her mouth with a stern admonition to ask and panic later.

When she felt full and a little more ready to face things, she went back to packing and was about three fourths of the way done when she really felt the need to sit down again. The bed sank under her as she paused and stared out the open door. The light was changing.

Sunset.

And she was in a perfect location to watch it, if she desired to do so.

She looked down at the pack beside her and let go of the shirt, unfolded, in her hand. She went outside, leaned against the railing and took in the last moments of another day.

\- TDWP -

Afterward, she left the pack where it was, unfinished, incomplete, and opened the door from her room, to the rest of the enormous house. Despite her worry, no one was outside the door and no one was looking for her or planning anything dire. The hallway was actually quite lovely, as the room had been. It was resplendent without actually inspiring a form of covet in Andy, which was very nice. Not that, if she chose to take things literally, she had to bother with coveting. It was likely, given the wide parameters established by the bell-hop / servant / whoever that guy was, that she could go and grab the silver and sell it at a local pawn shop and no one would ever say anything about it.

Not that she would, but she was aware that, whatever she might think about the location, she was not a prisoner; exactly.

So, having been invited and wanting to know the shortest route out, Andy began to explore.

It was vastly apparent now that Andy's assessment, which usually was spot on, had been wrong. Given the house and the servant and the … well... mysterious location... there was no possible way that Thomas was "down and out," in the sense of money. Hard luck, maybe, because of something else, and certainly Andy had those kind of hard luck days too, so she wasn't judging, but the man was the opposite of destitute.

It was embarrassing that she could be so off target, but at the same time, he at least had been gracious about it. Certainly he could have dumped her in a fleabag hotel; not that he would have, but he could have, just based on her assumptions.

By the time she found doors on the ground floor, she'd discovered a library, a sitting room, a dining room and a big kitchen. She'd also passed several people, whom she smiled and nodded at politely, but did not necessarily stop to greet. While she had the sense that they belonged there far more than she did, they did not stop her either, which was to the good.

She found another open patio door, ground level, and one that lead to a space with a swimming pool and a lot of pretty people wearing some very skimpy clothing. Tom was not among those individuals, either. However, the sight of these people actually reassured her. Not all of them were pale and they reminded her of home; not Ohio home, but New York.

She was not a shy person. One couldn't be shy and work in journalism and certainly time with Miranda essentially flogged shyness right out of a soul. So she decided to see what happened if she stepped out.

The usual happened. Some people looked. Most didn't.

This let her relax even further and she made her way to the bar, where she saw a familiar face of sorts. "Hi again."

The young man who'd delivered her food offered a weak smile. "How may I serve you?"

"Well, thanks for asking. I could use some juice, if you've got it. Probably shouldn't drink anything alcoholic right now."

"Pomegranate?"

"Sounds delicious. Thanks. Say, is Tom around?"

The young man blinked and blinked at her.

Andrea shrugged, "Just thought I'd ask. I'll take that juice when it's ready."

The man, who seemed far too serious for his age, merely nodded his head and then began to prepare her drink.

She turned away from the sleek bar and looked out, trying to determine who might be open to a little conversation. Then she recalled the young man's offer. "So, who can I talk to and get answers from, if Tom isn't around? I've got some marks on my hands that need some explaining."

The young man made a choking sound, and the glass, which he'd been filling, settled with an extra slosh by her arm.

She took the drink, because she needed the fortification, even if it were juice and smiled into his wide-eyed stare. She took a sip and then tilted the glass at him. "So, then I take it your helpfulness only goes as far as 'stuff to get done' and 'Don't ask questions you can't handle?'" His eyes got wider. "Don't panic. I get how that is. I just don't have a lot of time to play guessing games so it's made me a little forward. You got a name?"

"William."

Andrea nodded, seeing a pattern. She took another sip. Then she smiled another friendly smile. "Well, thanks, Bill. When is breakfast around this joint? That's a question I can ask you, right?"

His expression went a little slack, but he nodded. "Yes. Breakfast is normally served from seven until nine-thirty a.m. Banquet style."

"Awesome. In the dining room?"

"Or your room, should you need. The phone has a service number."

"Even better. Thanks, Bill. I'll quit shaking up your day now." Andrea walked away then and stood near a quieter, deeper end of the pool.


	2. Chapter 2

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 2

She felt the arrival of a prospective conversationalist before she saw them and looked up from her pondering of the azure depths of the pool. The shaggy blonde hair, the blinding white smile, the cocksure attitude were all seared to her memory. "Christian?"

"Miranda-girl! Where have you been?" He sidled up, not too close, but not necessarily out of her space either. "Been a while since I've seen your by-line, Andy."

"Where have I been?" She grinned at him. "I'm surprised you're even asking, given, well, the way things happened."

He waved it off, "Not your fault and I liked to think I had a hand in pushing you up the ladder a bit."

Andrea turned more fully to look at him. He seemed tan and fit and basically himself. "Well, I won't say I'm displeased to see you. Because I'm not displeased, that is. I get now it was just business. But I do wish you'd mentioned it before we..."

"Well, you probably figured out why I didn't..."

This time Andy laughed and lifted her drink. "So, you look well-sunned."

"California has a way of doing that to a body." Aha! Now she had a state. He continued, "Needed someplace less chilly for a while if you get what I mean." They both chuckled then. His eyes slid over her body, but not in an overly familiar way. They'd had their moment and it was done. It was a friendly glance.

"How do you know Tom?" Andy asked.

"Tom?" Christian fished for more information. "There's a lot of Tom's, Andy."

"Oh, fine. Thomas. How do you know Thomas? The producer who owns this place?" She poked him gently, causing his white shark-grin.

"Ah. Well, it's not like we're buddies. I'm actually here with one of his... uhm... kids." He rubbed the back of his neck and managed to look sheepish.

Andy leaned forward, "Well now. Tell me more!"

"May I direct your vision this way, " He waved his drink in the direction of a statuesque and sweetly curved blonde.

Andy sipped her drink and hummed. "Very nice. Serious?"

"We don't know yet. We're playing it by ear. But, I really like her Andy. She's been good to me."

Andy arched a brow and hazarded a guess. "Publisher?"

"Professor. History. Met her at one of my book readings. She, it turns out, is a fan. And you know, the way she talks about some things. I tell you, it's as if she were there." He sighed happily and leaned back in his chair. "I got so lucky."

Andy fisted her hand and popped him gently on the shoulder, a comradely gesture. "Congrats you. I wish you great happiness."

"You think I deserve it? I mean, after..." He glanced at her.

Andy waved his concerns away. "Old news. The one you owe an apology to is Miranda, if anyone. Me, I've given up grudges. I got no time for them. But, if you just feel you gotta make it up to me, take me to meet your gal. She might be able to answer some questions I have. Plus, I want to meet the woman who is taming the 'Wild Stallion'."

He grinned widely, not bothering with a blush at the mention of a certain nickname. "Sure. Come on." He stood up and offered his arm. Andy looped hers through his once she was on her feet too.

\- TDWP -

Samantha had answers, alright, but it was apparent she wasn't quite ready to share them with Christian present. He was there and then sent off on a mission to harass Bill for goodies. "Smooth," Andrea commented. "I see you've got him where you want him."

"Almost," the blonde smirked and propped a hand on her hip. She'd already done the visual assessment thing. "I take it you are guesting with us tonight."

"Apparently so. I did have a hotel arranged, but I guess Tom didn't think I'd get fed properly or something. Or maybe he thought I needed some fresh air." Andy paused a beat and then put her empty glass down on a nearby table. Then she lifted her hands, showing the back like she was the Palmolive lady, and said, "Sam. What are these and how permanent are they?"

The blonde flicked a glance at Christian, who was far enough away now not to hear. Those who might hear were also far enough away to stay polite about it. "May I?" She asked, indicating a wish to touch.

"Sure."

Cool hands took her own and the blonde let out a slow exhale. She lifted one hand, "This is the sign of Asclepius, which is the sign of the healer. I can not begin to tell you its true importance, not in so short a time, but think of it as a kind of passport. You may travel places that very few others are able. You may be in the company of wolves and none will lay a hand to harm you."

Andy blinked and thought of her cousin, who hadn't mentioned any of that. She gulped a little, "Oh. I'm not sure I … Sam, I don't know if I deserve this..."

"It would not be there if it were not true. These marks are not given haphazardly."

"Well, I'm not saying it was haphazard, just maybe... emotionally..."

"No!" The word was sharp and paused Andy's ramble. "Take my word for it. This has nothing to do with emotion."

Andrea started to argue, then realized she had a whole other hand and Christian wasn't likely to be gone much longer. "Okay. Fine, we'll take up the topic later, because I really need to understand this. Tell me about the other one."

Samantha dropped, but did not let go of the one hand, while raising the other. "This is the sign of the gods. You remember the golden apple of myth?"

Andy was well read. Plus, she'd seen Xena. "I do recall something about that, yes."

"You are the golden apple."

Andy barked a laugh. "What?"

Samantha's lips twitched in sympathetic amusement, but her eyes were very serious. "Your blood is sacred. It is not for lower caste, nor for just anyone, to taste it. And none may ever just take it. Though you may, as a healer," Samantha lifted Andy's other hand again, "gift it. There is power in your blood. Do not gift it randomly. When the day of your rising comes, and it will, it would be my honor, anyone's honor, to be at your side."

"Hey ladies. I got the snacks."

Andy shifted on her feet, feeling a little overwhelmed and weirded out by Samantha's explanation. The blonde let go of her hands, but it seemed as if she did so with great reluctance.

"We will talk more, later, if you wish?"

"Oh, I think I probably do." Andy turned on her smile. "Hey Christian. Thanks for being the pack horse. What did you bring?"

\- TDWP -

Oddly, Christian's presence did much to ease Andy's consternation and when she grew tired, which was inevitable, considering, she felt more sanguine about going back to the room. She even felt a little embarrassed about all the packing. And somehow, when she arrived and found that the case was closed and zipped, the packing done, she was not surprised.

Rolling her eyes at herself, and the waste of time it all represented, she set about taking out some of the items she usually needed at night. She put her sleep-shirt on the bed and her medication and vitamins, in a row, on the small table by the bed, all set in a precise order - from pills to take at night, to pills to take upon waking. Not that she'd done so in a while. She put all of them down, except for one, which, while she brought it with her everywhere, she had not been using in a while. This was the one that soothed the time-bomb that was in her chest, the one that, by foregoing, meant one day everything stopped, regardless of everything else that was going "wrong" in her body.

She exhaled, putting it at the end, a more symbolic gesture than an act of intention. It felt much like the marks on the back of her hands, supposedly there for a purpose, but to her mind, purely there for decoration.

She recalled Tom's urgent desire for her to promise what she could not give, after all, the whole point was to live a life while she had one; even if it meant doing a few stupid things like bungee jumping or leaping off planes with a parachute. Each thing represented the same chance that not taking her medication did, although they were probably safer and the truth was, she had been contemplating something a little more permanent of late; just because the hurt had been gathering momentum. But the memory of his expression gave her pause.

Then, with a sigh, she picked up the first bottle and opened it. It wouldn't hurt to add one more day to her tally.

\- TDWP -

The alarm in her cell phone buzzed her awake with its usual efficiency and though it was early for her, she knew she wouldn't be back to sleep for a few hours at least. But she intended to, this once, actually follow through on the rest and the recovery. The room was dark, in the grip of the early morning twilight. She rolled over, sat up, feet to the floor, butt still on the bed. She felt achy and disjointed, more so than usual, but her hand snapped out for the glass of water and she began her morning ritual.

She found the sunrise by stepping outside the front door and sitting on the front steps, angling toward the rising bright orb like a flower. The cement under her was still cool. The shiver was a reactive response and very brief, but a part of her felt like she could have used something to lean against right that moment. But, as sometimes was the case, that option wasn't really very available.

She waited for the moment when the light really changed when the morning felt firmly in place, and then she stood and turned to go back inside.

Somehow, she wasn't as startled as she might have expected. "Hi Tom," she said to the man who stood in the doorway, looking hale and strong. He was a transformed figure, still lithe, but no longer on his way to being a shade. She was sure he'd been there a while, watching over her.

"Andy. My friend." He extended his hand. "Come, let's talk. Samantha tells me you learned some new things."

The brunette laughed and put her palm to his. "You could say. One might call it a crash course. I got to thinking though, about some of the implications."

"As you would." They walked companionably, toward a sitting room. "What is most pressing for you?"

"How much of a pawn am I now?"

"Hmm. Not a pawn. The closest analogy would be a Queen, but even then, you have, what one might call much more maneuverability. And, my dear, I have no intention of pushing you around the board."

"Ah, but that doesn't mean others won't try. Being immune from harm is not the same as being immune from a nab-grab. I realized that had to be why you wanted me shadowed."

"That and I care about your well-being. One of us is, or should be, medicated more than the other." With that gentle prompt, he finally released her hand. "Which, I would like you to meet with one of my, family, physicians."

She did not snark at him, but took a near seat across from him. She waved a hand negligently. "You know, it seems like you all do that. Even my cousin."

"Do what?"

"Well, when you're exchanging one word for another, just a slight hesitation. You know, father, instead of sire, that sort of thing. Not that I mind, I'm just making the notation that you don't need to hide that from me in particular. Not that you have to go around shouting..."

"Andy." Affection laced the tone.

"Fine. Discretion. I get it." Andy did not quite roll her eyes at herself this time. "I was wondering how the surf was going to be today. I got the hint that we were in California. That's a little ways away from Vegas."

Tom shrugged. "I imagine it will be pleasant enough and yes. I didn't want you to miss the sunset."

Andy looked away then, at anything, the wall, the curtain, other furniture and all of which was very fine, very well cared for. "I miss them sometimes. It's okay if I do." She dragged herself back and looked Tom in the eye, "But thank you."

"No. You and I both know it came at a price." He looked at her hands. "But I had very little choice in the matter."

"You could have left well enough alone."

She didn't need to see his slight denial to know he couldn't have. Some things went beyond mere social chores. She sighed then. "I suppose I'm lucky it was you."

"I don't think luck had anything to do with it," he intoned seriously.

Andy shrugged. "Well, so now what do I do? I seem to remember I had some plans. Isn't Disney around here somewhere?"

\- TDWP -

Universal was closest and almost as fun as trying to very unsuccessfully lose her life savings at Vegas. She might have had a better time if she'd had real company, but her shadow, a taciturn giant of a man, merely watched her as she took the rides and saw the sights. As soon as she grew tired, which hit her very hard, he was right there. He did not, quite, carry her out of the park, but he did lift her into the black SUV.

She watched the road, now blessing the man's silent competence, and considered that maybe she'd overdone it.

"Not much resting and recuperating on my part today. Should have been more careful," she commented to no one in particular. But then she grinned, and this time she flicked a glance at her driver. "But I did have a great time."

She thought she caught the briefest of smiles. For some reason, that reminded her of blue eyes too.

\- TDWP -

The physician was probably one of the creepiest looking people Andy had ever had the opportunity to meet. He looked like he stepped out of a mad scientist catalog: bald, a scar on his face, tweaky little twitches, hunched over shoulder and skin so pale he was nearly translucent. The pristine white lab coat, accessorized by seemingly random medical items, only added to the eerie. Yet, at the same time, the doctor was nearly as soft-spoken, though much more gently so, as Miranda had ever been. And his touch and his keen observation, green eyes thankfully, was thoughtful and kind.

He had her medical records. These days all it took was an email, just about. Well, and a few forms and technicalities, but by the time Andy was in the small home medical center, he knew pretty much all there was to know.

This, however, did not stop the usual medical feel-up. Pressure taken, breath expelled, tongue extended, eyes checked. Dr. Acheson was very nice about it and his nurse, Melinda, a brilliant looking redhead who was made for porn fantasies, even more so. Andy did not shorten Melinda's name, because, well and truly, Mel simply wouldn't have fit that proud bustline right.

As far as the check-up, things went about as one might expect. Then it swerved to the strange side when he explained that it would be helpful if she allowed a small taste of her blood, please. A sample via syringe was acceptable, they would also utilize some more formalized tests, and they would be careful in the draw as they had been informed of her previous blood loss...

She had blinked and then blinked again, had looked at Melinda, who smiled helpfully and maybe a little too pointedly. But after a tiny bit of consideration, she thought the notion that had been carrying her through many of her days lately. Why not?

She extended her arm.

The needle stuck briefly in her arm stung more than Tom's teeth had, but it was quicker and they patched her up the traditional way, with gauze and a tape wrapping.

This time, when words relating to the concept of rest was pushed in her direction, there was a bit of finger waggling and the comment of, "This abode has a perfectly good library. Use it. No roller coasters for two days."

\- TDWP -

Elsewhere, on the East Coast, someone else less fortunate, and much, much earlier in the day, also got a lecture of sorts. Given the debacle of "the Book" that was delivered to Miranda the night previous, it was not a good day to be an employee at Runway. The first victim was a junior art department employee and there was zero finger waggling. In fact, there was nothing paternal, maternal or even friendly about the dressing down. It was an ice cold burn, delivered in soft dulcet deadly words, and as lectures went, it was cutting and short.

The employee scurried away in tears and did not bother with clearing a desk that was almost empty anyway. Then Miranda turned her attention, a penetrating icy blue stare, on a senior art department employee and that's when everyone knew it was going to be a bad horror show of a roller coaster ride at work.

By the time the silver-haired editor stalked back to her office, this once letting her high heels sound the warning clarion, four employees had been sacked; including the yet another new Art Director. He was no Nigel.

The thought of Nigel lightened the elegant and dangerous woman's mood very slightly, but not enough to compensate for the dire mood that settled when she passed by her two newest assistants; only one of which was near competent. Nigel, however, had needed someone and it had been Miranda's choice to send Emily overseas with him, temporarily.

She couldn't regret the decision, after all, she'd owed Nigel, but she did miss them.

She summoned one of the new girls, rapping out orders in soft-spoken quickfire, until the girl appeared to rattle. Then she'd sent the girl away, finally allowing herself to sit. And fume.

She glanced down at her mostly pristine desk. It was afternoon and she hadn't even been in her office since she had needed to stomp out the fire that was an excuse of a department. Her desk was covered neatly by the latest papers and deliveries of the day. A glass of bottled water, set to the side. She exhaled, letting the normalcy of the moment take away some of the ire. Then, because she found it soothing to do so, she lifted the first paper, and put on a pair of glasses that she did not need, and began to quickly skim it.

She went through two papers and one magazine in very, very quick succession, mentally noting the interesting bits and, somewhat subconsciously, but also visibly, slowed as she picked up the next paper; the Mirror. She held it still in her hand for a moment, not quite ready to look and be disappointed yet again, but once she steeled herself, she began gently flipping through the pages, letting her eye rest on the by-lines rather than the content. Miranda would come back for content later if she spotted something.

The search revealed nothing. She wasn't there. She hadn't been there in a long time. Yet, a part of Miranda insisted on hoping, even though she'd sensed Andrea was no longer in the city around the same time as the by-lines had stopped.

It was that missing piece, that sense of consistent absence, a hole in the space which she now understood was reserved only for Andrea, that made the editor behave like a dragon with a thorn in her paw. She knew it. A few other people might have guessed it, but they were overseas now. The world, however, only knew that Runway's magazine had become even brighter and more powerful than before; a shining beacon during challenging times.

She had long ago learned how to turn her misery into beauty.

What she longed to do was show the world what her joy could do. Then, they would see marvels.

Her youngest children, speaking of joy, remained constant sources. However, their time was split between the youthful needs of school, activity and shared custody. Her time with Caroline and Cassidy seemed fleeting; appropriately so. She watched them grow with delight.

This week their father had taken them camping and touring, scheduled for two weeks, hinting at a belief that a little outdoors and Americana would go a long way for them. Miranda had reluctantly given her consent, but only because she agreed in principle. She just would rather have had them closer than two states away at any given moment. It was probably for the best, however, given the dark mood of seeping dread which had been settling slowly on Miranda like a cloak. It was as if she were watching the clock, something she need never do as her internal clock was flawless, yet at the same time, each day of Andrea's absence was like a tick of doom, each sunset a tally of the failure of minions and choices.

It was her own fault they could not find the girl. After all, she had, under some misguided notion that Andrea was most beautiful when free, opted not to mark the girl; not to claim her as her own as soon as she'd realized she wanted her.

She should have gone after her in Paris, should have gone after her while she was at the Mirror.

But that was not something Miranda would do, had ever done. She never chased. They always chased after her and then, those foolish or brave enough to get too close, met her teeth.

Yet...

Andrea was different. She always had been. Miranda had no idea why she was different and had refused to give in to the desire to find out. It had taken all the tenacity she'd had, leaving a stretched feeling of holding on by her fingertips before she gave in to the urge to go get Andrea. And then, it was only when the girl was truly gone, truly missing, that Miranda realized that she had miscalculated.

She snarled lightly, letting her fangs flash, just for the temporary relief. It wasn't until she felt their sensual sharpness that she considered that perhaps it wasn't moodiness. Perhaps it was peckishness.

It had, after all, been some time since she'd had a true meal. Perhaps if she did, she'd think more clearly.

She called one of the new girls in. "I've changed my mind. I will be attending the function tonight." She let her gaze rake across the girl's sleek, model-thin form, considering. Then shook her head. Emily had been a special case and had thrived as a Childe; gone was the irrational jealousy and the horrible body image. In its place, had risen a woman of confidence and skill, though her delightful snarkiness had remained. She was proud to call her daughter and more.

This one wouldn't even make it through the transformation, not even as a blood thrall, (though no doubt she would have delighted in the opportunity, given how often she revealed her throat). Human resources would probably miss her. It was time, however, for the editor to start thinking more about her needs beyond Andrea. She had let things slide too long. Miranda lazily waved a hand of dismissal. "That's all."

\- TDWP -

Presence. Miranda always had presence. As soon as she walked into a room, everyone within knew that a person of power and majesty had entered. Unless she desired otherwise.

Very few people knew how consistently and constantly she damped down that aspect of herself. Those that did know were either of kin or the Otherworld.

The function she chose to attend this night was not something like a ball or a dance. It was perhaps in the order of a minor party. One might expect live music, but an intimate environment, as it was a private event, thrown by a minor host who wished to garner favor. Thus, she dressed down, choosing something less work and more cocktail. She chose a dark crimson sheath, one crossed with a single stripe of black and accessorized with ruby and silver. The dress emphasized her perfect skin, her flawless stride.

When she entered the loft, heads turned, every one. She accepted their silent lust as her due, ignored it as her habit and dropped her wrap into some hapless person's lap, with the understanding that it would be where it needed to be when she was ready to leave.

"Darling!" The voice that called was familiar, friendly and a relief to hear after an abysmal day. A few strides by both and they were in each other's company.

"Nan." The one word held a wealth of unusual warmth. "Where have you been?"

The socialite waved her hand, "Oh, here. There."

"Hardly here, but I am still very glad to see you. Did you, by any chance note anything of worth in your perambulations."

"Would that I had, but my last fling was more interested in the steward than myself."

"Nan."

"My fault for choosing them young. So few in their early twenties have staying power. But. Oh, she was so pretty while it lasted."

"I take it you let her fly free then?"

"Thralls are only fun when you want a monkey. I haven't got time for that." As a person carrying a tray passed, she grabbed two glasses and handed one off to Miranda. "And your little bird? Have you found her?"

Miranda's expression darkened, but Nan was one of the few who could weather the storm. "No," the editor said flatly.

Nan reached then, laying her hand on Miranda's forearm, "Well, then, come spend a little time with me. I'll tell you all my latest adventures and... " Her eyes scanned the silver-haired woman's face, seeing more than most. "I saw this most delectable tidbit in that direction and would love to share a bite."

Miranda arched a brow at her friend, then took a sip of the drink, and said, "Why not?"

\- TDWP -


	3. Chapter 3

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 3

It probably should not have surprised Andy that the library was so wonderfully stacked with all sorts of books and media. Also available were e-books, made accessible through the house server, which she had been given an account to and which had even more treasures within which to be lost; including several favorite movies.

The brunette liked the perks, even if she shied from the sense of being coddled by Tom and his people. As promised, the vampire did not stop Andy from going anywhere, and certainly, her bag had remained unmolested since the night of her arrival. Everything remained where she'd put it, except for her nightshirt and sundries, which had been washed, dried, folded and put back on the pristine, freshly made bed.

She wondered briefly if she should tip Bill, but kept that question for later. Mostly she spent her time observing and trying to get a grip on her situation. That is, when she wasn't napping on a supremely comfortable couch in the library, with a book on her chest and a mystery blanket that had been thrown over her, or lounging and playing with others at the pool or walking the sandy beachfront, which, it turned out was also part of Tom's property. Fences surrounded most of it, but they were disguised by tall green bushes and trees and tricks of landscaping that uplifted the illusion that this was some island paradise.

To escape that sense, all one had to do was step out the front door and see the wide u-shaped drive and the long, green, also beautifully landscaped front yard. Tom's house was not gated and she suspected it did not need to be. Not many would venture to harass a vampire of his stature.

She had come to understand that he was indeed a person of importance and influence, much like Miranda, though obviously there were great differences. For instance, Miranda wasn't a vampire and Tom was a lot more relaxed. Or, maybe not. She'd not seen how Tom behaved on a professional level. She'd only ever seen him when he felt his worst and in the presence of his family and friends or herself. Or the visitors of friends. Or...

Oh, she faced it, he was simply more social and laid back no matter how she cut it. It was California and she'd seen several people she'd watched on film at his pool, on his beach and, yes, even in his library. They smiled when smiled at, but she certainly did not go around saying, "Hi. I'm Andy," to every starlet or star that showed up. But she did greet a few when they greeted her. These tended to be the ones with pointy teeth and they seemed as awestruck of her as she was of them.

Somehow, it weirdly balanced out. Though a part of her reminisced that had she still been in Miranda's employ, she'd have been dressed for the part. So far, she'd been in jeans and a shirt for everything, but at least they were quality.

Andy stretched lazily before sitting back up and rolling the blanket off. She took a moment to fold it carefully and set it on the arm of the couch. She hoped she hadn't snored, then realized that if she had, someone had probably been entertained by it. Or they would have awakened her.

She stood up, tucking a card in the book to save her place, and then started out, wondering if she'd missed dinner. She was about to step into the hallway when she overheard Tom and another person, both speaking in a fluid, fluent language that she'd never heard before, but which sent a pleasant thrill through her skin. She realized it had to be the language of the vampires, an ancient and venerable tongue gained upon their transition. The two talking spoke with an urgent intensity and it made Andy curious about the body language, but not enough to play the spy in a home that had welcomed her so warmly.

She stepped out, not too abruptly, but with a pleasant smile on her face. They paused, naturally, and she started walking, stalling long enough to say, "Tom." Then she offered a nod, "And friend. Did I miss dinner?"

Tom's serious expression changed into a warm smile, "Even if you did, I'd see to it you were fed."

"Well, sure, but I don't want to put you out."

"Andy." Again there was that warm affection. "Go and talk to William. I am sure something is ready for you."

She laid a hand on his forearm, politely ignoring the other guy. "Thanks. I'll see you later?"

"Absolutely."

As soon as she turned the corner their conversation started again, but this time with the first phrase being in English. "My God. It's true!"

She didn't stay to hear the rest, but something in her mind said, "Let the games begin."

\- TDWP -

Dinner was wonderful and it was a little less lonely than she expected. Samantha and Christian shared the meal with her, providing amusing conversation and company. They had a good time. "Sam," Andy said, "I have a feeling your Dad's been really patient with me. I've been slouching around here in my normal travel duds and I can't help but notice that, well, there are times things are either less formal or more. I hear California has some nice shops. You know anyone who'd be interested in showing me around. I'd like to get a few things, you know?"

"Dad," Sam said, as if tasting the word, getting a feel for it, and realizing she liked it, "... has simply enjoyed your company. You already know this." She arched a brow, but her smile took away any sting. "However, I would very much enjoy taking you shopping." Sam's gaze slid down Andy's form pleasantly, and if there was a hint of heat behind it, no one commented; especially not Christian, who merely grinned at both of them.

"Forgive me for being a guy about this, but I shall leave you ladies to that little adventure. Tomorrow I have a few meetings to attend anyway and it's taking me upstate for the night. Think you can handle things without me?"

Sam returned his grin with a cheery smile and then sent Andy another sultry smile. "I am sure we will somehow manage."

Christian just looked amused and sipped his drink. "You'll have to tell me about it."

"Oh," Sam promised. "I will."

\- TDWP -

Sam's car was not an SUV, but a sleek yellow and white speedster. Its lines were aerodynamic, and it rode low to the ground. The vehicle was meant to get places and fast. "This," Andy said respectfully, "...is almost as pretty as Christian."

Sam's flashed a grin at Andy, "He is, isn't he?" She opened the door and Andy slid in on the passenger side and then Sam took the driver's side. Andy didn't need a shadow while Sam was around.

The blonde competently fired up her car. "Where do you want to go first?"

Andy smiled. "Surprise me."

\- TDWP -

Shopping was a delight; there were no "Pretty Woman" episodes with Sam present. Andy and she walked boldly into shops where they tried to spend all that Vegas cash the brunette won and failed. Andy's bank account would be flush for years, but it did allow for a spree that meant that Sam's swank little car filled up with very expensive and beautiful treasure, some of which were quite silky indeed.

Both women shopped, modeling choices for each other until they were both preening a little from the compliments delivered; not just from each other. By the time they were done, they had a familiar, easy camaraderie and a slightly heated awareness of each other's physicality.

Later, after they arrived home and invited each other to see the outcome of their spree when the inevitable came, Andy was the one who pulled back. "I can't," she'd whispered. They were sitting on the side of her bed and had come very close to reclining. She said this, even as her gaze took in the other woman with heady appreciation. "I really can't."

Sam's words were just as quiet, even more gentle. "Though you desire to..." After all, she knew. Her sense of smell was like most vampires. Superb. As were her other senses. She knew.

Andy closed her eyes, but she nodded. "It isn't fair to you, though, so I won't." She hadn't mentioned Christian, since both Sam and he had made it abundantly clear that their relationship was not an issue.

Sam reached out a hand, took Andy's. "Tell me."

The brunette was quiet for a bit, looking down at the floor to gather her thoughts and make the choice. Then she squeezed her friend's hand and finally looked up and braved Sam's hazel gaze.

"When I first met her, I was just out of college and had moved up to New York with my boyfriend. I won't go into what happened over the course of nearly a year, that would take too long, but I'll say that by the end of it, my boyfriend, who had been so very positive that he was open-minded, had broken up with me. I mean, I told him from the beginning how I was and he was okay so long as it was Lily and I, but otherwise, he got jealous. I still don't know why I stuck with him, after some of the stunts he pulled, but you know..." Andy shrugged, not wanting to make a long story longer. "The thing was, Miranda and I, we'd never... not once, not even a kiss or anything more than a touch on a shoulder... and it's more likely than I can say that it was completely one-sided. She was my boss, a demanding stickler, and terror to the masses. And me."

"And you loved her."

Andy exhaled a shuddering breath. "Oh yeah. With no reason to, really, except... a million tiny things." She realized how tightly she was holding Sam's hand and eased up, intending to pull away, but the other woman simply covered her hand with the other one. "The thing is, the reason I'm saying no now, is because I like you. I really do. But if we took this forward, well... all I would see is her face. All I would hear is her voice. And you wouldn't hear me saying your name. It would just be... wrong. And I can't do that to you." She shivered. "I just... I just can't seem to get her out of my head."

Sam let go of her hand then, but only to draw the brunette into a hug. "It's not your head."

"I know." This time, for not really the first time, Andy began to weep in earnest. "She's ruined me, Sam. Ruined me. If she only knew how much payback I've had for Paris... Oh, who am I kidding? She'd love it. She'd laugh her hot, way too perfect, ass off."

\- TDWP -

It wasn't that Miranda couldn't partake. She could and she did. But the taste was continually off, which explained why she had been delaying her needs more and more. But Nan's insistence paid off and she could not deny that the delectable young thing they shared had been more than willing and had suffered not at all. They put her to bed, to sleep contentedly and recuperate, at a very early point in the morning and then, together they'd made their way to one of the higher points of New York to watch the sunrise.

If her Runway minions could see the way she sat so carelessly upon the broad wall of the skyscraper, shoes off, legs dangling, they would have been shocked. But, at least she was in good company, as Nan was at least as careless of both the danger to the clothes and of the height. The sunrise, as always started off with the cool blue of twilight, then it warmed, first into a sweet peach and brightening yellow.

And as usual for Miranda these days, the beauty seemed marred somehow; not shallow, but incomplete.

After a respectful moment, Nan finally spoke up, but she didn't look at Miranda. "I've been thinking about your little problem."

Miranda exhaled. "I don't have any problems, Nan. Except for deplorable employees and an ex-husband who insists that camping is character building."

Nan was not one who was easily put off. "I think, perhaps you're worried. Worry has a way at eating at a person. And minions, they don't always see the bigger picture. They may seek, but for the wrong answers. Perhaps it's time to send someone else to do the job." Miranda's lips compressed but did not purse and Nan finished the thought. "Me."

Silence thickened around them, becoming nearly palpable before Miranda finally answered, her tone negligent and her focus anywhere but on Nan. "Do what you want." The silver-haired editor felt the slightest hint of lips upon her skin.

"You won't regret it."

\- TDWP -

Whether or not she would regret it, Miranda still had to go home to her empty house. Unlike many of her station, she preferred privacy versus the constant attention. Her children, both of the body and the blood, might find time to reside or visit and that was a much different thing than allowing minions, servants and strangers to occupy her valuable time with their presence. She preferred them to be invisible, to live in their own spaces, and her home to be a refuge to herself and family.

This did not mean that she did not have affairs and functions, but those more public experiences happened at other places, so she could leave.

What she had not accommodated herself to was how changed her feelings about her home had become in recent months. Where once she welcomed the quietude as respite, now she found it spiteful and cold. Lonely.

Even when Stephen, her amusement of the moment, had been at his worst, she never felt lonely. After all, she could sense her childer at any time, know their whereabouts and call them home if the impulse for friendlier company struck her. Yet...

Yet...

Perhaps Nan was right. Perhaps the problem was that she was merely worried because the young woman had disappeared and Miranda was all too aware of how truly dangerous the world could be and she liked to keep track of her employees, even her ex-employees; some of them, anyhow. Perhaps the worry was all the reason for this pensiveness and ache.

Yes. That had to be it. Because one thing was sure, she did not miss the girl's open gaze and friendly smile at all, nor her fleeing ways.

\- TDWP -

Another bright day of sunshine and Andy spent a good portion in the quiet cool of the library. This wasn't to say she did not go outside and enjoy herself, but she found herself coming back inside, away from the hubbub and the entertainment. She supposed she could have gone to her room, but then she would have missed too much of what was interesting and while they might visit with her in the library when she snoozed no one disturbed her.

She was getting a lot of reading in, both casual and serious, which was an indulgence she hadn't allowed for herself in a long time. She also looked better doing so, as the outfits chosen that morning allowed her to fit in much better with the semi-casual crowd and interact more comfortably with them. No one's eyes slid over her now, once they looked, they paused and took her in. It was both flattering and strange, but she'd sort of gotten used to it in Miranda's company, so it was not an entirely unusual sensation.

For instance, she had the feeling someone was looking at her now, and, weirdly, she knew who it was. Without looking up from her book, she said, "Hi Tom. What can I do for you?" She looked up then, closing her book, but holding her place with her finger. She smiled as he kissed her cheek.

"You look rested."

Andy grinned, "But do I look recuperated?"

His smile was easy as he took a seat right next to her and casually looped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him unselfconsciously. Their friendship had been started in intimacy and she wasn't ashamed of it and they both knew, through that osmosis, the limits. "I will say you look closer to it."

She yawned, despite herself, covering her mouth with the softcover book. "Sorry. That new medication Dr. Acheson has me on is soporific, but he said I'd only be on it for a little while, just until my blood work is satisfactorily..." she used air quotations, "... recovered."

"Good." She felt a hesitation, but didn't immediately say anything, instead opting to set the book to the side and fold into her friend a little more.

Then she addressed the unspoken query. "What?"

"I have something I must discuss with you, but it is somewhat personal."

"Well, by now you know my take. Ask away. Worst case I won't answer."

"Right." Another silence passed and then he said, "I think I should preface that Dr. Acheson has spoken with me about you."

"And my blood."

"Naturally." He squeezed her a little, then continued. "We believe, Andy, that you and your cousin are not the only ones who are special among your family. I think, or rather, I believe, that some may need some seeing after."

"Protection."

"Yes. And discovery. I don't know how to phrase this."

"You know, you have some really interesting books in this library; quite a few non-fiction and very intriguing. One of which had to do with something called bloodlines."

"Oh. You found that."

"I've found quite a few things. But I have to say, Tom, I don't think you should get your hopes up. My family line is so mixed and matched …"

"Most American families are, but there were two, Andy. Two Asclepius. You must know by now that is rare. Unique."

"I've gathered." Andy closed her eyes and thought. Then she winced, and when she opened her eyes, it was to roll them and then sigh. "Aunt Dorene. I better call her."

His hum was a rumble. "Invite her here."

"My mom will love it. She'll think I'm finally taking care of myself." The resignation in her tone was sweeping.

"Invite them too, if you want."

"One thing at a time. Mom and Dad are great, and I love them, but it was like pulling away from clinging vines to get them to 'let me' go on this 'hair-brained, sophomoric quest for danger.'"

"They were worried." He need not mention that he had been worried too. And he had known her the least amount of time and the deepest. "Perhaps you ought to call them too. Not to come up, but..."

"It feels as if I'm giving in."

He held still and then said, "You would have eventually anyway. And... no one will stop you from trying new things, but..."

"You have a vested interest."

"Of sorts, but Andy..."

"It's not an accusation. I just... I sometimes feel as if I'm faking it, faking the will to live and that only by keeping on running can I stay ahead. I didn't want to stop, Tom. I wasn't going to." Not without Miranda and not until something had snapped, broken or stopped it all for Andy. At least then there had been a limit, an endpoint.

"I know." Tom soothed. Then changed the topic. "There's a thing tonight. you would call it swank. Expect paparazzi and beautiful people you've seen before. I'd like you to come. Be my arm candy."

Andy couldn't help the laugh. "Sure. I can do that. But let me think about the other. I mean, right now it's just the two, okay, three... shoot, four of us and we don't know... we don't know for sure..."

"Though the likelihood," he let the word linger. "It's the blood, Andy. I wish I could convey how important... how tremendous... It would be." His gaze took on a new longing as if seeing a brilliant future. "A full branch, Andy. A full, live, thriving, impossible…." His words trailed away.

She felt the rise in enthusiasm and given how she'd found him before, she didn't really want to quash it, but... "I'm not discounting. But Aunt Dorene, she's kind of a wild card. She's not someone you can drop ink on and expect her to do anything anyone expects."

"Not that you have done anything anyone expects."

"Yeah. I've been pretty staid though. I have an excuse." She yawned again.

"True. Then yes, think about it. I will not obligate you. But, Andy, the more people who know of the golden apple, the greater the chance they put together facts and assumptions, even if they are wrong ..."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"That's all I ask."

\- TDWP -

It was more than on her mind, it was a circling wave of concern that, the more she extrapolated and considered consequences, the more compelled she felt to act. It was just, this was not just her life, but her family's. And, handled poorly or badly, in a game that she barely understood, could result in more than just "hurt feelings," which were repairable.

She did, however, come to a conclusion. The Vegas money, which had led to her drinking in that bar out of depression in the first place, would at least serve some useful purpose.

When Tom gathered her for the 'soiree', she was ready with her request, as well as the party.

He purred when he saw her, loud enough to be heard. It caused her to blush but didn't stop her from taking his arm. "You look delicious."

"Well, you ought to know," Andy quipped, allowing herself to be led out to the car, which turned out to be a limo. "Wow. Not just swank then. Upper crust."

"I did not want to scare you."

"Well, let's pretend I'm fearless. You'd be surprised how much your perspective alters when the land is coming up at you really fast and you realize those jokes about pancakes may apply to you."

The door was opened for them both. She slid in first and then, once they were underway, she practiced that bravery. "Do you know a good company for hire, who might keep an eye on things in Cincinnati."

"If I told you that I had already contacted trusted persons..."

"I'd say thank you and mean it. Do you think Dr. Acheson would be willing to travel? You know, in case Mom and Dad and well... everyone... gets a little …"

"I think he would be willing, but Andy, not everyone finds him..."

"I'll tell them it's for me. That he's looking for a match to something or other. They'll figure I'm being vague not to worry them. And my nieces and nephews will love him. My sister will practically adopt him. My family is a little on the strange side. Picture redneck geeks, nerds, and D-n-D players, teachers and lawyers and the stray pagan. Not quite Addams family, but we relate to the closeness and the enjoyment of morbid humor. Ever since my cousin came out, the notion of the Otherworld is old hat."

He couldn't help the laugh. "I am so glad we met, Andy." He took her hand and rubbed the webbing between her thumb and index finger. "And not just for this. You are a charming young woman. It is a great honor to know you."

"Flatterer. I doubt you'd have noticed me in other circumstances, but thank you. I'm still glad we met too."

"Good. Now, let me prepare you for what is to come."

\- TDWP -


	4. Chapter 4

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 4

Nan arrived at the conclusion that a phone call would be too impersonal. She regretted that decision just a little bit, but gamely sat on the edge of the couch in the quaint family room of CeCe and Richard Sachs' middle-class abode. The woman of the house, a short blonde, puttered, pouring a small dash of an alcoholic beverage for herself and her visitor.

She didn't really speak until she too was sitting on the edge of the couch, holding a cool glass with two fingerfuls of amber liquid. She offered what was supposed to be a chipper smile, but it was ruined by the dark hint of worry and grief in her eyes. "So. You're Andy's friend." Her voice was pitched low, but Nan heard her quite clearly.

She smiled, considering technicalities and truths. "I like to think that I am. It has been awhile since I've seen her..."

CeCe took a drink, perhaps a bit too quickly, given the grimace. "All of us can say that. It's been awhile since..." CeCe's expression blanked and she looked away from Nan.

Nan tried to carry on, to explain her presence, "It's just her by-line stopped showing and while we hardly saw each other every day, it was consistently there and we knew she was at least fine enough to ..."

"She decided she didn't have enough time to 'play journalist.'" CeCe's fingers marked the quote, glass still in hand. She took another strong sip. "I don't know what she's writing now. If she is..."

"I know this is an indelicate question, but I only wish... to help." And more than just Miranda. Nan was fairly sure that Andy was not the type to just upset her parents for no apparent reason. "Was there an argument?"

CeCe's expulsion of breath was sudden and deep, but despite the gut punch noise, it was as if the question relaxed her. She sat back on the couch, no longer quite glaring. Her expression was rueful. "There were several. And, at first we thought, you know, after the first scary leap, she'd be back. But she wasn't. Nor the second. She called after the next, ecstatic. She used to call, but … Her father and I, we just..." A slow slide of tears rolled, "We just wanted to spend time with her while we could."

This time it was Nan who felt her stomach clench, as a wrenching understanding penetrated. She sat back with an, "Oh." She drank a smidge, a little too quickly. "Oh dear."

"Yeah. Oh."

They sat quietly then, sipping in almost companionable silence. Nan finally said, "I will give you my card. You will call if anything changes, anything at all. You will call if you need anything, anything at all."

"Ms..."

"Nan, please. It's easier for everyone to remember."

"I can't..."

Nan turned, her expression stern. "Yes. You can. You will. And you will carry on. Andy... will call. She is not the type to not call for forever. I happen to know someone who is, so I know the difference. I am too stubborn to let her get away with it, which is why we are still friends. I also have amazing resources. I will find Andy, even if she doesn't call right away. Then I will call you and I will tell her to call you." Nan reached out a cool hand and took CeCe's, "And we will be friends, you and I. I know this already. Let me be there for you."

CeCe, despite herself, chuckled and surrendered. "Okay. Okay."

That was when the phone rang.

Nan's comment, after CeCe fished out her cell and gasped at the identifier, "My timing always was impeccable."

CeCe flashed a glance at the woman and, again, despite herself, flat out grinned. "You keep delivering like this and it will be the start of a beautiful friendship."

She opened the line and Nan clearly heard a familiar voice. "Hi Mom! Sorry for not calling sooner..."

\- TDWP -

As the conversation carried on, revealing shocking little details, Nan debated whether she should prod for a chance to speak with the girl.

Apparently, she and CeCe were on the same wavelength. "Andy, a friend of yours is here, all the way from New York. I'm handing the phone over and then I'm going to get your father. Don't hang up."

CeCe did not give her daughter a chance to argue, but immediately placed the phone in Nan's palm. The socialite arched a brow, then brought the cell to her ear. "Andy, darling. It's been far too long."

"Wait. You're not Lily."

"Hmm. No. I shan't make you play twenty questions. This is Nan. You may recall our last encounter had to do with invitations."

"Oh my god. What are you doing at my parent's house?"

"Helping. People have been looking all over for you, little one. You would not believe the expense."

"What? Why? I turned in my paperwork at the Mirror."

"I am not speaking professionally, of course. We are talking about something very personal indeed. She's been... difficult."

Silence dragged on the other end, before Andy regrouped. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Apparently everything. Enough so, that whole hordes of minions have suffered through the dire winter of her wrath. It might have helped if she'd known you were still breathing. I might say that also of your parents. You can call me Aunt Nan if it helps you swallow this pill better."

"I...I...," Andy began to sputter.

"Well, the good news is you're obviously still on this mortal plane and local enough to call. Would you mind very much if I came to visit you?"

"Local?" Andy couldn't quite keep the tone outraged. It came out sounding more amused and prodding. "I'm in California."

"Still on the continent and close enough to fly and be there in a few hours. Would it hurt to see me?"

Another long pause intruded, before Andy exhaled and gave in. "Do you have your own plane by chance?"

"Of course."

"I need to speak to my Aunt Dorene and she will need a ride, that is, if she says yes. Would you consider, since you're planning on swinging by this way anyhow..."

"I would be delighted to make myself useful."

\- TDWP -

After a surprisingly pleasant morning, which drifted into noon and a wonderful homemade brunch, Nan was ready to head to the airport and was much more informed about Andy's true status. Though she suspected there was much more to the story. Dorene, whom she had yet to meet, would be at the airport and ready to go. She had declined a ride, offered through CeCe, apparently choosing to find her own way there.

In the limo, Nan, who was being ferried by a professional chauffeur, contemplated her options. She was aware that she needed to call Miranda as soon as possible, before the flight. Yet, she also needed to be careful in the revelation. Some things should not just be dropped on a person; especially one who barely acknowledged that they had an interest in the issue.

Yet at the same time to miss a detail and have it later be known was its own hazard.

Best to come out with it then and let chips and friend's temperaments fly where they may.

Decision made, Nan pressed a few buttons on her cell phone and pressed the gadget to her ear. She secretly almost hoped the woman was in some very important meeting and wouldn't pick up. Nan was very practiced in being succinct with the editor. Some of it had to do with being sisters in blood, but the other part was simply that they'd known each other so long few words conveyed much.

The answering machine clicked and Nan smiled despite herself. "Darling. California weather is lovely. I must dart away to see the sights and bird-watch. The family sends well wishes to her friends and are open to visits and consolation. Also, check your email. I'll be sending photos of a certain bird when I spot her."

Well, that was hopefully not too horribly obscure, but if Miranda wanted clarification she would call and demand it. Nan let the call close and then tapped the phone against her chin in contemplation.

\- TDWP -

Nan waited in the comfort of the aircraft, settled on a plush seat with a drink in her hand. She typed into an on-board PC, sending missives to her own minions and contacts about business that needed attending. Dorene was not late, merely held up by those noxious security protocols. While Nan's jet might be private, Andy's aunt had made the mistake of trying to go through the regular route.

Nan, who still hadn't actually laid eyes on her, had not intervened. Some lessons had to be learned on one's own. Next time she might be willing to accept the simple offer of a ride.

By the time a harried woman, tall, middle length auburn hair and dressed in a t-shirt proclaiming earth saving ways, black jeans and worn sneakers, made it to the plane, Nan had completed most of her business and was contemplating a novel.

Nan smiled pleasantly. "Dorene?"

"Yes," the younger woman huffed, as she juggled a carry-on and a rolling piece of luggage, moving them to one side of her body so she could stalk forward, hand extended. Nan decided not to play the fish game, which she liked to tease some people with, and took it in the manner delivered; firm, a little hard. She did not however, squeeze. She had no desire to crack bone.

It surprised the woman, which was only fair, since Dorene had surprised the socialite with her strength and apparent youth too. To go by looks alone, the younger woman appeared to be perhaps a decade, if that, older than her niece. "You must be Nan."

"I must be. Please. Let the steward stow your goods and have a seat." Nan waved at someone in the back and then smiled expectantly at Dorene, who, once relieved of her baggage looked around at all the available places to sit.

She finally opted to sit not too far from the socialite, but also far enough away that she could turn away easily from any discussion.

Nan put on her friendliest aspect. "So. Dorene. I know very little about you, yet Andy was so insistent we meet. Why don't we swap stories?"

Dorene looked at Nan as if she suspected her stories wouldn't be any good.

Little did she know. Nan was a connoisseur of tales of all sorts: personal, sordid or even just interesting. She was very good at telling them and at ferreting them out. Dorene was in for more surprises during the flight.

\- TDWP -

Andy paced like a caged animal just outside the arrival zone and inside the waiting area. Arms folded tightly against her ribcage, she kept glancing toward the port where her guests were arriving. Sam had been kind enough to come with her and, along with the guard that Tom had assigned them for the day, watched the young woman's impatient strides with amusement.

"I am sure everything is fine," the blonde commented. She only knew she was heard because of the quick look Andy gave her.

The writer's pacing eventually slowed, however, until she finally paused and stood by Samantha. "It's not so much about fine," commented the brunette. "It's more about how am I even going to explain all this to Dorene and I have no idea why Nan is coming here, except that she does what she wants... and..."

Sam placed a hand on Andy's forearm. "Peace, my friend. Peace." Even though Andy had stilled she could feel the anxiousness that threaded through the young woman's body. "Is this Nan a threat?"

The question actually did more to still the brunette than all the reassurances. And for a moment, Sam was convinced that she might need to take a more defensive stance.

"Not the kind you're thinking. It's not even really about her. It's about who she knows and something she said worried me. I want to ask her..."

Before she could finish the thought, a small commotion caught their attention and Andy's eyes widened.

Two women, talking animatedly and with obvious enjoyment, and walking without any undue hurry, were followed by a person dragging a cart of baggage.

Andy flashed a surprised glance at Sam, who also, at that moment appeared to be quite taken aback, but that didn't stop the brunette from suddenly moving forward, arms outstretched, "Aunt Dorene!"

She was met halfway, not quite at a sprint, and hugged so tightly that her breath was a little short afterwards. "Heya squirt. I hear you've been taking on mountains and driving fast cars."

"The fastest! But the mountains were steep and tiring." The younger woman grinned.

Andy only reluctantly let go of the hug and then Dorene kept a grip on her forearms, pushing her back enough to take a good look at her. She noted several things, including the thin, dark fingerless gloves that Andy wore and the way she fit into dark slacks and a plum colored silky blouse. Dorene took in a breath and said quietly, "You've lost weight."

From anyone else, that might have been a compliment, but the concern in her voice had little to do with flattery. Andy grimaced at the tone and shrugged the concern away. "I'm fine. Been eating like a horse. Ask Sam."

"Sam?" Dorene queried.

"Ah. Right. Introductions." Andy stepped back and waved in the direction of the statuesque blonde. "Dr. Samantha Hardaway, Professor; history and archeology, this is Dr. Dorene Sachs, from Ohio, my father's youngest sister, and a Professor; quantum theory and sundry physics and metaphysics."

The blonde's eyes were very wide, and she didn't have a chance to respond before Andy moved on. "And this, is Ms. Nan Whitmore, from New York, a woman of wealth and style, my aunt by invocation of the right to tell me to take my medicine, quit pouting, and swallow. And also," Andy paused just a breath and gave the titian-haired woman a speculative look, "a friend of mine."

The stately woman laughed outright as Samantha's eyebrows seemed to shoot up. The blonde turned to Andy and said, in utter consternation and shock, "You know Lady Whitmore?"

"She knows a great many people, some better than others, but a great many who are important..." This time it was Nan whose gaze was speculative and also amused, "to varying degrees." She then turned to Samantha, her expression light. "But let's never mind that. Among friends and family, yes. So, where are we going? I need to tell the porter where to..." She waved at a man who was just stretching the end of his teens and looked very put upon. Fortunately for him, she always tipped well.

"Right. We're going to my ..." Samantha glanced at Andy, and her expression shifted quickly from shock to affection, as if she'd never been taken aback. "...Dad's. He's in for a surprise."

"What?" Andy said, not sure about the vibes she was getting from the blonde. She started feeling anxious again. "I'm obviously missing something."

"It's... nothing," Sam prevaricated, even as her eyes flickered briefly back to Nan, who returned that quick gaze impassively. "We're in an SUV parked right out front. I hope that's okay."

Nan smiled whimsically. "So long as someone else drives..."

Dorene swung a look at the socialite, "Don't know how or don't want to?"

"I do love your family's bluntness, Andy. It explains so much." She finally offered a reply to Dorene. "Don't want to."

"Fair enough." Dorene, looped an arm around Andy's waist, "So. Nan and I want to hear all about the adventures that you've been panicking your mom and dad with and don't spare the juicy stuff."

\- TDWP -

Miranda's memory was perfect, photographic. She could hear, see, and/or feel something once and she had the record of it in her consciousness, ready for her recall at any time. This was one of the things that made her a perfect editor, one of the things that made her a glorious editor-in-chief and one of the things that let her move in those upper echelons of power with ease and grace. For instance, the list she composed for Irv in Paris was created not in a matter of days, nor hours, but a dash of five minutes, if that long. The only reason she brought along her assistants to functions was for appearance's sake. Well, and at least that way she ensured there was something beautiful to look at during the drier events.

Thus, there was no particular reason for her to listen to Nan's message more than once.

Yet Miranda did, as she sought out the nuances and flavor of what her friend said versus what she intended. She understood where Nan was going, and why. It was kind of Nan to offer photographic proof, but unnecessary, as she trusted her friend. The puzzle wasn't in the direction the socialite was going, but in the hint of warning and the careful spin of a phrasing, which set Miranda's metaphorical tail lashing.

Wasn't this quest supposed to ease her worry?

Supposedly, in theory, just hearing that Andrea was somewhere, alive, should have made a qualitative difference and provided a jolt of perspective.

Now all she could think about was the weather in California and how Andy's family, whom she had no interest in personally, needed consoling.

Over what? Andrea had been doing relatively well, if one went by the articles previous to her disappearance. And she wasn't dead, or Nan would have told her so more bluntly.

Perhaps they'd lost a fortune or someone had stubbed a toe; none of which was her problem.

Miranda contemplated calling the socialite back to wrest an explanation, but she was awaiting the latest rendition of the Book in her office at Elias-Clarke and did not want to split her attention any more than it already was.

The editor tapped her fingers against the surface of her desk, impatient and a touch surly. She considered, perhaps it wouldn't harm anything to have one of the new girls do a little research on some of the latest designs coming from the west coast. HR might have something useful from that direction too. She was missing a good portion of her art department after all and all sorts of creative types found their way to New York from the west. And then, there were the social obligations. She had invitations from everywhere. No doubt some of them might be useful and maybe even interesting.

Having settled her mind on something more fruitful, Miranda swiveled her chair around and gazed out her window as day started to shift into night.

\- TDWP -

They entered the foyer, Sam first, followed by Nan who had her arm locked through Andy's this time, then by Dorene and finally by William, who was performing the job of a packhorse. "Dad!" Sam hollered, startling Nan and delighting Andy and Dorene, "We're home! We got VIP!"

The sound of her voice echoed in the largish chamber. She turned, eyes alight and expression delighted as she said, very seriously, "I have always wanted to do that."

Andy tried to stifle the giggles. "You get to tell him that it was your idea."

"What is all this bellowing in my house!" A responding baritone called out from the hallway that led most quickly to the pool. Amusement colored the tone. Tom's smile was very broad as he entered the foyer. It would have taken a quick eye to catch the falter.

Andy had a quick eye. It had been trained by the best, Miranda. As the editor was prone to saying things like, "Get me the canary yellow shoes that I liked." The hint was that, if you had traveled with her, you had also seen these shoes and had better have retained the whereabouts in your consciousness. It helped that Andy was already smart as a whip, had a good mental filing system and could recall almost anything based on single idea or word prompts. This particular skill was one she'd gained from her parents.

Tom's moment of fluster might barely have registered with anyone else. His smile, perhaps a little more strained, was still warm and wide. Sam went to him, brushing her lips against his cheek. He wrapped a careless arm around her waist and she turned toward the others. "I'll do the introductions if that's alright?"

Andy bowed out gracefully, or rather, just said, "Sure."

Sam began with, "This is Dr. Dorene Sachs," and provided a little of what she'd learned, both from Andy's previous introduction and their quick comparison of university life. "We talked about how Dr. Acheson would like to do some comparative testing on a relative and she's open to the experience."

"Oh good. This is very good. Thank you."

Dorene's smile was easy, "Anything for Andy." She actually ruffled her niece's hair, which caused an eye-roll and a teasing retaliatory punch in the air.

"We feel the same," was Tom's easy reply. "Though, perhaps for different reasons."

"Well, you obviously care about her. That seems sufficient to me." Dorene said, even as her eyes took in everything around her and her expression was as neutral as Andy had ever seen it.

"Speaking of caring," Sam said, "And I hope Dorene and Andy will forgive me a lapse in courtesy, but certain... formalities... must be held to. I will preface by saying this, Dad, this is Andy's Aunt of the Heart and friend." Tom's eyes widened slightly.

He didn't argue, he didn't say that he knew differently. He did glance at Andy, who shrugged as if she couldn't have phrased it better or differently and didn't have an explanation for something that was unexpected.

Then Sam stood away from Tom and bowed a tiny bit with a shift of the neck as if offering her jugular. She began to speak, not in English, but in that fluid other tongue. Then she turned, extending a hand and bowing, if not lower, even more formally, with more torque to the offering to the socialite. Her neck, this time, was obviously canted, her eyes downcast.

Tom stepped around and in front of her then, and he too made the bow and offering, as he spoke, very gently, very carefully, to the woman.

Things went very still and Nan looked to Dorene and Andy.

Both women stood quietly. Dorene was watching with an interested, nearly scientific gaze. Andy was watching them with a worried-for-them-all gaze. She looked as if she might say something and Nan, feeling a premonition of what it might be, raised her hand in warning. The young woman clamped her lips tight, no doubt a useful skill learned with much practice.

Nan then moved, faster than fast, grasping Tom by the shirt and dragging him forward. Her mouth covered a portion of his neck and while no one could see her teeth, everyone knew. She tasted him, long enough to move well past a sip. He sagged in her grip, eyes closed and expression ecstatic. Nan's expression was also a form of blissful, but when she pulled back, only briefly licking her lips, it turned stern. But not cold. "I accept the hospitality, sanctuary, and welcome of this clan. I bless the kin-hold that holds dear our favored Andrea." Only then did she lean forward and lick the wounds closed.

Tom's eyes remained shut as if caught in a loop of something wonderfully bright. But his response was sleek and beautiful, again in the ancient tongue. Sam's was a more primal gasp, something between wonder, terror, and hope, and she righted the cant of her head and went to grasp her sire, holding him up from behind, arms supporting his forearms.

Nan replied again, this time in that same language. She turned to observe that both Dorene and Andy had some version of shock in their body language. The younger brunette's leaned strongly in the area of "what-the-hell?"

She recovered quickly, however, again, due to all that previous life experience. The writer blinked and shook her head, found her tongue, just as Nan was about to offer something witty as a way of breaking their tension. "Nan, just how VIP are you?"

The socialite's delighted laughter lit up the whole space before she replied. "If I'm your aunt, this one," she pointed at Tom, "... is now your many-times-great-grand cousin. Not, that I'm that old, my darling, but we are speaking relationships and status."

"So," Dorene drawled, finally managing to pull her attention back, "You're royalty."

"Give or take. It's all very convoluted. I'm not sure the lines are all that clear. Priestess, handmaiden. I am not the ruler of my clan, but one might call me next in line. And each aspect I've just described all apply somehow, depending on the situation and the ceremony. But, yes, your summation... royalty."

"Interesting," Dorene said and she plopped her hands on her hips. "You'll have to tell us more about it."

"Sam," Andy said before the professor could say more. "Why don't you take your Dad to the library and I'll be in there in a bit. I can show them the guest rooms."

\- TDWP -

Andy was a little surprised that neither Dorene nor Nan seemed in a hurry to keep her attention. Dorene claimed a need to unpack, while Nan said she had some business to attend to. So the writer informed them about the dinner and the ever-running party and said that she'd be checking in on Tom.

Nan had stopped her then, briefly, holding her gently by the arm, and then the hand. Her thumb had run a circle where the tattoo lay hidden under the glove. "We will speak more of the important things. I promise. And we will do so before I make a curtain call."

Andy stared at Nan and then slowly nodded. "Okay. If that's how it needs to be."

"It does. More than you know." Nan then, as if reading the need in Andrea's body, physically turned the girl around and gently pushed her to the door. "Now go reassure yourself about Thomas."

Though she hesitated and wanted to say more, to discover more, Andy found herself making her way to the library.

She found Tom reclining on the sofa, appearing slightly dazed. She took the empty space beside him, sliding comfortably close. "So. Cousin."

His laugh was a chuff of air and he leaned his head back against the bridge of the sofa.

"Are you okay? Do you... need a drink?"

He didn't quite lift his head but turned to look at her. His expression was warm. "As usual, you do me honor. Thank you. No. It was not … serious. It is more formality than anything else, and a bit... draining."

Andy considered. "Yeah. You got that right."

\- TDWP -


	5. Chapter 5

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 5

The evening version of the daily happenings was in full swing. Tom's guests laughed and milled about, while libations and food were liberally made available. It wasn't very late yet, had barely cracked the beginning dark, and the ambient lights that were distributed around the backspace were plentiful without being blinding or too bright; leaving enough shadow spaces for more personal conversations and light spaces for happy groupings or just the usual shenanigans.

Andy was by the pool, with Dorene standing nearby, chatting with one of the guests. This was where Nan found and joined them.

"I promised pictures." Nan said this to explain the small digital camera that she held in her hand.

The socialite did not specify to whom, but Dorene said, as if this was old news, "Yeah, CeCe would have demanded those. Want me to do the honors?"

Andy said, as she leaned back on her hands, feet in the cool of the brightly lit pool. "You only want control of the camera so you don't have to have your picture taken. So, you have to let someone take at least one. Because you know and I know what Mom would say."

"Drat. Foiled again."

Nan grinned, lifted the camera with practiced ease and a flash went off. "There, obligation met. Now, Dorene, I accept. I designate you, until tomorrow evening, the photographer." She handed the camera to the professor, who grinned.

The flash went off again and Dorene said, "Let the shenanigans begin!"

"Fantastic." Andy drawled, even as Nan, who, like herself, was dressed in a summer evening outfit of shorts and tops over a bikini, dropped beside her, took off her shoes and put her feet in the water.

"Ah, lovely."

"Yeah. It is." Andy grinned. Dorene wandered away, and another flash fired into the night. "You've created a monster, Nan."

"I prefer to think of it as utilizing the talent available. Your aunt and I had a very interesting talk on the way here. She's quite the woman."

"True. Just don't let her near an oven. So..." Andy looked out, away from Nan. "I don't really have a right to ask, but I'm going to. I just …," she shrugged. "She'd never believe it, but, I do care." Andy knew that Nan would know of whom she spoke, just by the inflection alone. "I did. I don't buy that anything happening has much to do with me, because, really you and I know I was just an assistant, a nobody."

"You, Andy, were never a nobody. Not to her."

"Well, you got me there, I was the disappointing one." She exhaled then, kicking her feet in the water lightly. "But even so... is she alright? She was dating when I turned in my resignation at the Mirror. It was all over Page Six. Said she got engaged."

"Ah." Nan gave Andy a considering glance. "The dating was casual. There was no engagement."

Andy looked down at the water. "Oh. That's. Too bad. She deserves ..."

"What?"

"To be happy. I wanted her to be happy. I needed it." Andy said words, both in a state of honesty and as if they pained her; as if the world was falling on her to say it. Then her expression turned rueful, as she owned another truth. "Well. As happy as she'd let herself be, that is."

Nan reached over and took the girl's hand and then they both said nothing for awhile. It really was amazing how clearly this young woman saw Miranda, even though she barely knew her.

\- TDWP -

They looked at the images on the camera, passing it along to one another with each new digital slide. Sam had joined them and so it was a small circle of companions, enjoying the captured memories. They would exclaim over a shot or burst out laughing, depending on what they were seeing.

"Doreen, how did you even get Bill to do that?" Andy asked.

"He's a remarkably amenable fellow. If you ask him right. He's terrified of you, by the way."

"I know. I can't figure out why. I haven't done a thing to him." Andy shrugged. "Sam?"

"Don't look at me." Samantha said as she pivoted the camera to get a better look at the shot. "He's Dad's minion, not mine." She began a long, low chuckle. "Though this may count as incriminating evidence. I want a copy of this. Dad will never recover."

They all started giggling again.

Dorene had a thought and said, "Too bad you don't have incriminating pictures, Andy. I know you've probably journaled your travels some, but..."

"Oh, but I do. I mean, it is one thing to say one has jumped off a bridge and quite another to prove it. Plus, I went to a few parties." Andy glanced around, "Not like this though. This is like Hefner unique, only less filled with bunnies and questionable behavior."

"You do?" Now it was Nan whose attention swiveled to the writer. "Oh, this you must share."

"Agreed." Dorene said firmly. "I want to see them."

"Thirded," Sam chimed as she handed the camera to Nan, who after glancing and grinning at the picture handed it right back to Dorene. "You haven't shown me any pictures. Been holding out."

"Oh. Come on. You know I would have told you eventually. Didn't seem like anyone except myself would be interested. I was saving them for when …" Her words trailed off and she looked stricken.

"Show us," Nan said gently, distracting Andy from a train-wreck of thought by placing her hand on her thigh. "I'm very interested."

The brunette shook off the grim vision and smiled. "Sure."

They met in one of Tom's home conference rooms, one he nominally used for work. Sam hooked up Andy's laptop to a projector and then dimmed the lights. This was no formal slide-show, as Andy had not prepared something for a speech, but she found the first folder and used the computer's preview to play it for everyone.

"Okay, this is me at the Circle K, a tiny circle race track in New York state. You will note the helmet and the uniform."

"And all the mud," Doreen commented.

"I know! It was awesome!" Andy's grin was infectious. "So let me tell you how it happened."

She went through the pictures, stopping to tell the stories as they needed telling, leaving only a few things out. They saw her in a flight suit and in an evening cocktail dress. They saw her jumping off the bridge, line gone taut, and expression terrified. They saw her back up on the safety of the ground, exhilarated. She didn't even show them all of the pictures, though she had plenty. She thought they ought to save some for later.

"You ought to put these up somewhere, Andy," Dorene finally commented. Her expression was respectful and a little awed. "You've done so much. And it's all..."

"Astonishing." Nan finished.

"Right. That's the word."

"I was going to say amazing," Sam shared. Then, as a kind of afterthought. "Dad has a server. We could put them up there, run a few words, make a little message board. Andy could share her stories with us and we could post her a note." She glanced at Andy. "You wouldn't have to reply, but every time you uploaded something..."

"You'd know I was alright."

"Yeah. And... you'd have .. You know, don't you, always a place... for later." She cleared her throat. "Think of it... as an online scrapbook."

"Sam." Andy's voice held a wealth of emotion.

"I think that is a wonderful idea. I highly encourage it." Nan's smile was toothy, "If only because I'm nosy and I love being in the know. Plus, my dear, it wouldn't hurt to put up an article or two. I can name several magazines that would love to have 'something-through-my-eyes' stories."

Dorene started chuckling. "Remind me, since we're talking, Nan, to tell you about Dr. Abernathy and his war with the Ag Department."

"Oh heck, Dorene," Andy said, "Don't spare the gory details. You have to tell us all that!" Then her eyes gleamed. "Do you have pictures?"

Dorene grinned. "None that can go on the Internet or even the most secure server, but, as a matter of fact..."

The next day four women stationed themselves in the library, talking animatedly about things on their computer screens and editing the content that would go on the server. By the time Andy and Dorene's appointment with the doctor had come up, they had a working site with some content public and some password protected.

And an advertiser.

"Well, I don't see why you shouldn't make a little money at this," Nan had stated. "It's a non-profit organization and they still have to post their ads. Might as well be here as well as anywhere. And you can set the price to something nominal, enough to show they paid for it and not so much your conscience screams. Plus, the original content of the site will be a draw, Adventure by Proxy, and I'll be touting it to all my friends."

Andy flashed a look that if she'd been wearing glasses might have passed for Miranda-ish. "That's what I'm afraid of..."

It had taken some convincing, but they'd worn down Andy's arguments until she'd finally said, with a huge exhale, "Fine. Why not?"

So, public site and private site were set and the site names purchased. "The web will never be the same," Dorene teased.

Dorene loved Dr. Acheson, not in a passionate sense, but in an I-want-to-keep-him sense. She'd grinned at him all the way through the prodding and the measuring and the poking with a needle. Because of the uniqueness of the situation, she'd let Andy, Sam and Nan stay with her and so they'd used a bigger room than the one Andy had been in previously. Melinda remained gorgeous, oblivious to her beauty, and very professional. Nan and Doreen's gazes constantly collided as they both snatched glances at her, much to Sam and Andy's amusement. It was a bonding moment for them.

When it was finished, Dr. Acheson had them all sit around one of the tables outside his office. "We will need to run a few more tests, but has anyone actually explained why we are doing this?"

"I thought it was for Andy."

"Partially, yes. Your blood, as a near relative, will help us to determine a course of treatment to help her. However, there was another reason." He gave Andy and Sam a kind of look that replaced a million lectures. Both women managed to look sheepish.

Andy blurted out, "I meant to, but really, there wasn't a good time to..." Sam was nodding her head in agreement, not willing to say anything.

Dorene, who was sensitive and always had been, picked up the vibe and said, "This is a vampire thing, isn't it?" Her expression narrowed and she folded her arms, wincing a little at the tape that wrapped around one of them.

Dr. Acheson's intimidating glare of reason at Sam and Andy, altered to a more pleasant aspect when he turned his attention back to Dorene, "Partially. It's more of a …"

"Mystical blood thing," Nan provided helpfully. She'd gathered some insight with her "visit" with Tom, but she'd also wanted to see what would come of the tests first.

"Yes," the doctor nodded. He extended his hands to Andy, who sat across from him. "If you would please."

Andy glanced at everyone present, before sighing, and putting her hands in Dr. Acheson's. The doctor said, "Melinda, a little alcohol on cotton, if you please." It was a matter of seconds before the makeup, which Andy had applied, gave way to the gentle scrub that followed.

As the marks were revealed, Nan said, "Oh!" sounding as if she were glad to be seated. She looked amazed and suddenly paler than normal, as if seeing the evidence made all the difference.

While Dorene said, "Wait, isn't that... did Connie convince you to get a tattoo?"

"No. It was done unto me, not something I went and did."

Dorene's tone went sharp. "Explain."

So they did.

"Shit, Andy," Dorene said, using a rare vulgarity. She ran a hand through her hair, scratching at the back of her neck briefly before dropping her arm back to her side. "This is... I have no idea how..."

"See." Andy said, "Not so easy, is it."

"So, how does this work then? Is Andy going to be accosted by every vampire on the street?"

"Really, Dorene." Nan chastised lightly. "Not every vampire."

The professor couldn't help the snort. "No. Just the one's interested in controlling a supply, right?"

"It's not like that."

"No. What you mean is, it's not supposed to be like that. You and those like you, have rules and traditions. But what about those who don't? If you're right, and members of this family potentially this special flavor blood, including me ..."

"It's not a flavor," corrected the doctor.

Dorene waved a hand, "Whatever..."

"It's not like one has to go around revealing the marks, Dorene," Sam said. "And they are protective, rather than..."

"They are also a signal."

Nan caught Dorene's hand then and turned her lightly. She said, very carefully, very earnestly, "If someone who is not of clan decided to take what was not theirs, the retribution would be total, Dorene. Their line would be wiped out. And, even as I say this, we are not savages. These days marks on the skin are nothing to be ashamed of and at the most, someone who has them might receive commentary from those who don't know and respect from those who do. While there is prestige to be had for the clan who has an Asclepius in their house as a blood-bond, it's not a form of slavery. They can woo, but they can't keep unless one wants to be kept."

Dorene's gaze flicked from Nan's sharp gaze, to Andy's hands, and then to Andy's face. "You had to go get bit by a vampire, didn't you?"

"Yes," Andy nodded, firmly, intently. "I did. But not for fun."

"It's prestige for you too, Dorene," Nan said gently. "It's an honor and an amazing gift. The fact that you might be like Andy, that is if you are Asclepius; the fact that you even exist is a miracle. The fact that there might be three in a family..."

The doctor said, "Blood, Branch and Fruit. More than fortuitous."

Dorene said, "What the hell does that mean?"

Dr. Acheson said, "Perhaps it will help if I clear up a misconception." He pointed at Andy's hands and the images there. "I am not entirely sure why Thomas has let you run with the assumption, though I'm sure he has had his reasons. However, these are not tattoos. They are divine marks, which were stimulated into existence by the first blooding."

Dorene looked at the arm with the gauze on it and then raised her brow.

"He means the first bite, the first..."

"I figured that part out," Dorene said caustically.

The doctor continued, and he used an index finger to trace the mark of Asclepius. "Based on the assumption that there are at least three of you in one family, Andy's mark, is different than the mark that you might carry and the mark Connie carries. I managed to acquire an image from a friend, who happens to know your cousin. For medical purposes of course. But his mark is that of the Blood. While each of one would have blood with power, each is also unique. If you have the opportunity to look closely at his, you will see that his snake wears fangs, and the tree upon which it curls is spiraled by the sign of dripping blood. Your mark, Dorene, should you also be Asclepius, will be the Branch. The snake will be green, and the tree will be in full flourish, with leaves and root extended." Now he lifted Andy's other hand. "Andy's Asclepius is the snake with wings, wrapped around a tree laden with fruit. But this, is the evidence of the quality, the kind, of fruit of which she manifests."

"The golden apple," exhaled Nan.

"Yes. And the reason Andy is so sick, is that the apple has not yet come to fruition and the blood is battling between the two qualities. It is... missing a component. And that is the puzzle, because there is nothing in the records to tell us what it is. All I can do is run tests to try to determine, but..."

Suddenly Dorene got it. "It could be something Connie or I carry."

"Or her parents. Or her other cousins and nieces and nephews. It could be someone not even of your family. Or rather, not yet of your family."

"The mate," whispered Sam. "You're talking …."

"Mm. Perhaps. I can't say. I'm only a scientist in vampire's clothing. I can only tell you the answer is in the blood and I can only delay the inevitable a little longer than most, should we not find it."

\- TDWP -


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 6

As per usual, Irv's diatribe about the budget was tiresome. Not for the first time, Miranda seriously considered ending the mortal's increasingly irritating existence. However, he was still a useful pawn to her and did have a place in the greater scheme of things. If nothing else, he retained ties to people who needed watching. Their arguments, now legendary, however, often left her with an ache between her eyes.

This was not conducive to even the illusion of pleasantness and it had a way of undermining any desire to coddle or even just cut some slack for her employees. It also put an edge into her walk, a warning to her glare and that sense of danger that was always her, increased. Enough so that even the blind would scurry away to do other tasks after Miranda returned from a bout with the administrator.

Her coffee was ready and on the desk by the time she arrived. It was nearly warm enough, almost. It spared the new girls another day. Of course, few got it right to begin with and only one had achieved perfection, timing the delivery with an uncanny prescience.

Miranda did not linger on that thought, though she lifted her cup to drink and turned toward the computer display on her desk. She briefly viewed the latest scan of the book, dropped commentary into the file and threw it back to the sender. Then she opened her email. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on one from Nan, and she opened it, ignoring all others for the moment. It was just a short message, and a website link.

I have found our little bird's temporary nest, but there are things that must be discussed in person. Until then, you might find this of interest. -Nan

The silver-haired woman glared at the link. The name itself seemed frivolous, but she was aware that it must have some connection to their quest. She just didn't know if she had time to waste with it.

She took another long sip, hovered the cursor over the link and clicked.

First impressions at the briefest glance was that it was laid out pleasantly, easy on the eyes, easy to read. Because it was her habit, she took a mental step back to examine the site graphics, font and format. The design was acceptable. A part of her was very pleased, the part that knew that Andrea must have learned something from her time at Runway.

Only after she had taken in the visuals, the aesthetics, did she concentrate on the content. She read the introduction, parsing meaning, intention quickly. The site offered a meager three articles, but that was appropriate for a beginning. The first one she chose randomly. It was substantive, charming. It sounded like Andrea, had her voice and Miranda slowed her normal reading speed to absorb it, to listen. She felt something, a small peace, settle within and realized she found the reading restful, though the topic spoke of danger and risk. Only when she finished did she allow her eyes to wander, to take in the true gift that Nan offered; the images, the proof that Andrea thrived.

Miranda's gaze rested upon the girl, took in every nuance, from the look of grim determination of the first image, to the triumphant grin of the last. The images were date-stamped. Miranda made a mental note to find out if Nan had the girl's personal email so she might make the recommendation of clipping the photos. Yet, at the same time, she found the time indicated provocative.

Andrea had lived this adventure two weeks after her by-line had stopped in the Mirror.

Miranda sat back then, contemplating and wondering why Andrea hadn't posted the story then, rather than now.

It was another reason to acquire the address; to remind the girl that articles should be timely in their content; even if they were meaningful.

She chose the next article and found it equally intriguing and alarming; equally reassuring.

Her issues with Irv settled into the background as she reached with a fingertip to trace the outline of a close-up image of the writer's face. In this one she looked tired, but her smile remained as a sign of another successful venture. The young woman had lost weight, perhaps a little too much.

Miranda made another mental notation about what she might convey to Andrea. Perhaps not through email as there was a notation of a message board in the article. Intriguing.

She would have to gift something appropriately extravagant to Nan for bringing the site to her attention.

She moved to the next article, intending to read, but her eyes fell immediately to the pictures, perhaps in anticipation of continuing to feel that pleasant glow; the one that Nan had been quite right about. The one that had begun to let her dismantle the dark worry that had been cloaking her days.

She had been unprepared for the flash of incandescent rage, the agitation of which had her up out of her chair and snarling. The sound must have been alarming enough that both new girls had rushed in; only to rush away even faster when she'd snarled, "Get out!"

She prowled for a moment, stalking from one side of the room to the other to try to calm herself, before she forced herself to look again, to take in those seemingly innocuous images of people smiling, having a good time, and Andrea on the arm of a man far too pale to be anything, but another vampire.

She resisted the urge to break the monitor, to shatter her desk, to enact any other form of anger than what had already been revealed.

She would not be visiting any forum, nor emailing.

Her eyes rested on the way the man's arm looped possessively around the girl's waist, the way she leaned into him, eyes alight and smile provocative.

Outrageous!

And the brunette was so oblivious to the danger.

Miranda's eyes scanned the article, barely resting, speeding through to discover the pertinent details.

A notation about a shopping trip for new clothes caught her attention and the editor had, if not an epiphany, a striking awareness that two birds might be handled with one slingshot.

"New Girl!"

The bravest one scurried in, terrified and already shaking. Miranda began quickly to lay out a plan that would take a good portion of the Runway staff to California. Damn the price.

\- TDWP -

Once again the evening found Andy, Nan, Sam and Dorene gravitating toward each other for company and amusement. It was the socialite's idea to find a "local" five star restaurant; one which happened to be an hour drive away, but one that was technically close enough to get home by a reasonable hour if they should stay late.

It meant that they all dressed up. Dorene quipped, "If any one of you says I clean up 'pretty good', we'll be takin' it outside."

It didn't change that she did. They all did. Everyone one of them looked like a knockout. Tom, when he saw them, insisted they have an escort and so they were chauffeured and "protected" by two bodyguards, both men of muscular size and stern expressions.

The strangest thing for Andy was not that they went to this amazing restaurant, but that she really felt no need to rubberneck. They were, technically, surrounded by the famous, but she had become slightly inured to it, given where she was living. In fact, she could have sworn some of the other patrons stared at them, which was a strange switch-around, but highly amusing.

Dinner was a jovial feast, a shared blend of food, drink and delightful conversation. They took their time, not necessarily with the intention of closing down the establishment, but rather to savor everything.

It was during dessert that Dorene said, "I've been thinking and I've arrived at a decision. It occurs to me there's no reason to wait for the blood test for certain revelations. I mean, we can, but the sooner we know..." She cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink. "The sooner we know, the better I'll feel."

They looked at each other quietly and Dorene continued. "Nan, would you consider..."

"It would be my honor."

"Oh good." Dorene exhaled and her shoulders settled. She smiled an easy smile. "Thank you."

That was when Nan's cellphone buzzed.

"I see one of us forgot to turn it off."

Nan grinned, "I didn't forget. But no one should be calling me at this hour anyhow. I have very firm rules."

That didn't stop her from fishing out the phone and looking at it. "Text message," she commented.

"Table rules are that you have to share if it's not top secret." Nan shot a grin at Sam for the comment.

She opened the message, went a shade pale and looked up at all of them. She said, "Intended versus unintended consequences. Andy, I can tell you, your site has been seen."

For some reason, the tone set off alarm bells. "Uh Oh."

"Miranda is coming."

Sam and Dorene both reached out at the same time, holding Andy in place with gentle firmness, while Nan fished for details.

"Ostensibly, she's coming for work and socializing purposes. Apparently there is a very important event coming up."

"Oh. I know what that would be," Sam said. "The SWAG. It's not the Oscars, thank God. But it's a …."

"Designer's event," whispered Andy. "Oh, shoot. I forgot about that. I forgot... I haven't been watching the time...I normally keep track of those events in my head at least." She shrugged. "It's an ingrained habit now. But I've been so caught up in all this. But Miranda's never gone herself. She's only ever sent a representative or two to the SWAG."

"Andy, breathe," Dorene said. "It's going to be alright."

The young woman turned to look at her aunt, her eyes wide. "You can't promise that, Dorene. You really can't. You don't know..." How much the brunette had wanted her. And even just having her in state... it was so close. There had been a reason she'd left New York. Again, Andy's voice trailed to a whisper.

"Miranda will want to see things for herself, which is fine," Nan said sternly. "She's invited me to meet her at the airport. I'll take Dorene with me and see if she's open to some travel with us, and we will either have her come with us or go with her. You know how she lets them schedule her life all over the place. If she has an opening, we will find out the plans and I will talk with her. You will go surfing with Sam, as planned tomorrow and stay out all day. You will have a good time. The only thing we really know is that she's coming to California to do business."

"Take the pill?" Andy asked, just a touch sardonically.

"And swallow. You have an army of friends here, darling."

"Okay." Andy said, finally. Nodding. "Okay."

\- TDWP -

"I have perhaps been relying too much on the fact you, Andy, are very intelligent," Nan said in the car ride back home. She'd been unusually silent, as had Andy, while the other two women had held up most of the conversation. She waited until the lull to begin speaking and then it was very quietly; almost Miranda quiet. "I've known Miranda a long time. A very long time." Nan's expression lightened briefly and then returned to its somber arrangement. "I knew her when."

She looked at Andy then and said, "You have always been very open minded Andy. Accepting of persons unlike you and ways not your own. I know we've scared you a few times, but your natural optimism has kept you strong."

"Nan, you do know I respect who and what you are. That has never been..."

The socialite leaned over, placing a cool hand against Andy's face. "I know. I know. It's just... I want you to think now. I want you to think about everything you know about Miranda. Everything you've seen, heard, or experienced with her. Think about it and tell me what I'm trying to get you to understand. Because I don't want you to be taken by surprise, Andy. It would be unfair. To both of you."

"I don't..."

Nan's thumb gently stroked her cheek. Her eyes were bright, boring into Andy's. "Think, darling."

The brunette understood what the vampire was doing, that she was pushing lightly, not to thrall, but to call forth the thoughts. The young woman thought about resisting, had the sense that if she truly desired she could back away and Nan would let her.

But at the same time, just the mention of Miranda, even without the name, always called up a memory or two just automatically. Usually the memories were favorites and somewhat incomplete, such as the way Miranda's hips moved when she walked or the way blue eyes flashed when excited by a new idea.

So it was nothing really, to let her mind sift through the memories and at first, it was simple enough. She remembered the first time she'd ever seen Miranda, how Nigel had said to gird the loins and literally everyone scurried. She'd never truly seen scurrying before. Hurry, yes, but this near animal rush to hide or be seen working had been entirely different. It had been unnerving and so, her eyes, like many others, had been directed toward the elevator and when the doors opened...

Andy literally didn't have words for the impact of seeing Miranda that first time, except to say it was powerful and compelling.

Her mind skipped forward, to a day when she'd known the editor a little better. She never quite accommodated to the impact, but pride kept her from being one of the scurriers. She did, however, run errands; a million of them daily, it seemed. She made it a life's mission to make sure that if she delivered Miranda's coffee, it was precisely as she demanded. She ran to get scarves, props, things for the girls. Sometimes it meant leaving early. Sometimes it meant coming back late, when almost everyone was out of the office; except for a few people.

Emily.

While she was a journalist and perhaps sometime before that, Andy had come to realize that people saw their lives through particular lenses - assumptions about how the world operated or should be. When Connie had come out to them as a vampire, none of their family had known they'd existed.

They had accepted it, because they loved Connie and wanted to support him, but their idea of who he was changed.

People fought that sort of change of perspective, often. Perhaps because something once grasped and understood could often have a ripple effect on how one perceived their whole experience and that... that needed accommodation. Even then, they might not get it totally right. They might only open enough to say, "we accept this and you," and maybe read a few books and think they get it.

Until a little while ago, that really had been Andy's depth of knowledge about vampires, her help for the family had been more on the research side of things, and even now, after spending time at Tom's, she understood how little they had known and had to work with. Her lens had been changed recently by living with them.

Where before, if she thought of Emily leaving the office looking pale, with animosity and envy toward Andy, yet at the same time wearing a triumphant expression, she might have thought, "Yeah. That was a bad day."

But now? She also remembered how, sometimes, she'd enter the office and Miranda would look just a touch flush and how, it had seemed as if things had smoothed out for at least a little while; as if Emily had been a miracle worker.

"Oh." A sheen of tears moistened her eyes and she turned away. "Emily knew. She never told me." She laughed, "But then why should she? She'd won. I didn't even know there was a battle."

Nan's expression became alarmed. "Andy..."

The young woman lifted a hand. "No. It's okay. It explains so much." Her expression tightened, "And none of it really is new news, is it? Just life reframed."

"But..." Nan tried again.

Andy did not snarl, did not rage. She sat back and her smile could have been mistaken for whimsical, but they all knew. "I wasn't even in the running." She shrugged. "And they all tried to tell me. One way or the other." She laughed, "Fat, smart girl makes good. Misses boat."

"Andy, really..."

"Nan," Andy said slowly. "It's okay. All this means is I'll do exactly what you said. I'll go surfing. I'll have fun. I won't let it get in the way of the way I live. I won't, because I made that choice a long time ago, because I had to." She shook her head. She exhaled. "Thanks Nan. For putting it into perspective."

"Andy..."

The younger woman just shook her head and looked out the window, away from Nan, for a few moments. Then she turned and, not quite ready to speak to her Aunt of the Heart, said, "Sorry about that. Just needed to wrap my head around things. Sam, you've been surfing right? What can you tell me about …"

Nan tried again later, when they had been home a little while. She'd knocked on Andy's door. Heard the call. "Come on in!"

She cautiously opened the door, not entirely sure of Andy's receptivity. The brunette had put on a good show of being her "usual" self, but Nan had come to know the difference and she regretted, more than she knew how to articulate, the miscommunication that had taken place.

She should have just come out and told her. She should have just said what she was hoping Andy would grasp. She'd wanted her to see that Miranda was no ordinary woman, nor even an ordinary vampire; and that Andy, had an important place in the scheme of things. In that, she had most definitely missed her mark.

The socialite grappled a few moments more with herself, then she heard Andy, saying softly and warmly, "Come in, Nan. It's okay."

The socialite remained uncharacteristically hesitant as she stepped into the room. It would not do to make another misstep when she was so close to achieving the outcome she desired. The lights by the bed were still on. Andy sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Her hands were folded into her lap, but there was a book beside her.

"Do you have a moment?"

"Sure."

Nan walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it, facing Andy. Once again she was reminded how beautiful the young woman really was. The light haloed her softly, burnishing her skin, her hair. The socialite realized she couldn't quite think of the words and it made her feel odd, since she always knew what to say and how to say it.

"Heya," Andy said.

Nan's smiled tightly. "I find myself at a loss for words. It was my intention, when I came in here, to try to explain..."

Andy reached forward, taking her hand. "There's nothing to explain. I know how it is. We want what we want and …" she shrugged. "It blinds us sometimes. I know more now than I knew then, anyhow. I wouldn't have seen it then and the truth is, as soon as I saw her again..." She tilted her head and smiled ruefully. "If I saw her again. If she let me catch a glimpse. Well, I would have realized the same thing."

"But, it's not what you think..."

"Oh. Nan. It is. She chose Emily. In the end, if it were even a possibility, I left her no choice. I'm the one who left in Paris. Which..."

"Why did you leave?"

Andy very nearly shrugged, but even as she started she stopped and looked the vampire in the eyes. "Because I couldn't go on that way. I couldn't go on wanting what I couldn't have. I was... an okay assistant, but Nan, I can't claim I was the best for her. I was just... She took me because I was the one without the broken leg. She would have taken Emily otherwise."

"Andy... I don't think you understand..."

The brunette smiled and shifted closer. "Your skin is flushed, Nan. How is Dorene?"

Just the way Andy said the words had Nan recalling the moment and how Dorene started out so stoic, watching her with cautious eyes. The invitation was only there for the sake of Andy, not because the professor had a desire for the experience, for Nan. The socialite took Dorene's resistance as a challenge, and the predator in her had wanted to push back. But she had grown to like the woman during their short time together and it was not Nan's habit to be overtly cruel to anyone who was willing to share with her, even if it were a touch forced.

Then Dorene had offered her neck, an unconscious proposal and the sinewy length was beautiful enough that Nan's fangs had revealed themselves with the quick burst of want she'd felt. She'd taken up the invite, slid into Dorene's open arms as if they were just going to hug, and laid her lips upon the point of life. She bit, her teeth a slow gentle slide, erotically given, because she wanted Dorene to have pleasure because of her.

She had been utterly unprepared, even with the exchange of stories. She had not grasped the entirety of who Dorene was, of her complexity, of the way her essence would shade to something so full, so powerful. So endearing. Magical.

She could not recall ever having been impacted so immediately, so completely. No one had ever affected her thus.

She longed for another taste and not just of the blood.

Nan's expression remained gently impassive, guarded, not wishing to reveal something that had, in essence, been personal to herself and Dorene. "She's... resting."

"Blissfully, I bet." Andy smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "You'd be like Tom that way." She scooted closer, until her knee was just barely pressed against Nan's. "He kissed my wrist."

"Andy."

The brunette touched the vampire's face, her fingertips drew down soft, silken skin, until they rested on Nan's lips. "It was more intimate than I expected. More gentle. Everything we ever read is how the bite is a violation, a seduction. But it wasn't." Her touch drifted way and Nan missed it immediately.

Andy exhaled. "I think Tom knew immediately. About me, I mean. Aside from my whole life, or at least the portion of my life that he picked up on. I'm not entirely sure how it all works. But he knew what I was."

Nan understood the question then. "She is the Branch."

Andy nodded, looking away for a moment, but her hand rested on Nan's thigh. "What was... is... her bite like?"

Nan blinked, taken aback. And she realized then, she had underestimated Andy. "It was and is praise and hallelujah."

"And yours?" Andy's gaze sought hers. Nan's nostrils flared, and she took in the girl's scent despite herself. The delivery of the question had been that provocative.

It took more control than she would ever have expected to answer the girl, to say it in a way that could not be read as forceful rejection or denial of the attraction, which was suddenly, surprisingly bright. Nan forced herself to take Andy's hand, to grip it without being too tight, to hold it and retain the gaze that was pouring into her. "Not for you. Yet. I can not. It would... wound you."

"And her?"

"Is that why you are doing this?" Again, she worked to keep her voice from going hard, from challenging the girl, like she would have any other.

Andy inhaled and then bit her lower lip, not to the blood, but as an act of thought. Nan was aware of every nuance and every minuscule twitch and beat. The relief was a physical thing, when the writer finally shook her head in the negative.

The brunette leaned away then, turning more fully away from Nan. "Even if I thought it would, I'd never hurt her like that. Or you."

"I know." Nan reached for the retreating woman, brought her close. Andy wrapped her arms around her waist, clung lightly. "I want you to listen to me, very carefully. And to believe me."

"Nan..."

"Hush. You've had your say. My turn now."

She felt the girl nod, more than saw it.

"I am going to tell you something about vampires. Something that is not a secret and that I'm sure you have noticed, but because we are what we are, it can be easy for many to ignore or misunderstand. Vampires are not loners. We can be alone, but we are not meant to be. We form bonds, friendship, kinships."

"Family."

"Yes." Nan pressed Andy to her lightly. "Family. Our lovers, the ones where blood is tied, are family. Emily Charleton," she felt the brunette stiffen in her arms, but she did not pull away. "... is family. She is Miranda's Childe, and as such, she is well loved. She was chosen long before you arrived, because she has her own special characteristics and Miranda saw this. Emily never had a war to fight with you, Andy. She was already going to be what she was going to be. If she thought there was a battle for primacy or if you thought it, you were both mistaken."

"But..."

"It was not a competition. Well, not for Miranda. Perhaps it was for you, to see who might be the best assistant, but... that was all."

Andy was very still in her arms, very quiet, for long enough that she thought the girl might have fallen asleep. She was about to lay her down, when she spoke. "What's the missing piece, Nan?"

"You."

Andy laughed, but when she pulled away it was with the form of lethargy that spoke of weariness, of a day gone too long. "Somehow I doubt that. But thanks. And... I believe you. About Emily."

"I will take what victories I can." Nan pressed her lips to Andy's temple and slid away from the bed and her. Tomorrow would have other opportunities to right things further and she suspected Andy needed a little distance to let the new ideas sink in.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

A/N - To make up for the real random times these past few weeks and also to thank everyone for the very awesome reviews, I am submitting a new chapter, a bit early or late, depending on one's point of view. The point being: Extra chapter here. Enjoy! :)

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 7

The plane ride seemed interminable. Even though Miranda knew better and that, really, it was essentially a case of hours, the closer they moved toward California, the more restless she became. She turned that energy, that compulsion to do "something," into work, a well practiced maneuver. Of course, if she worked, her minions, regardless of relation, worked. Runway staff mingled unknowingly with Otherworld staff, some of whom were both. It might annoy her that she needed protectors and sundry other officers befitting to her station, but she was used to it. It perhaps helped that she could, under most circumstances, leave them behind if she wished to; except when everyone was on a plane. That made just disappearing difficult.

It also made her feel growly. Which meant she verbally snipped and snapped at those who shared the first class space with her, spurring them on to better ideas, details, craftsmanship. They were, after all, there to work, and prepare.

SWAG was one of those upstart design and catwalk shows that sprung up every few years. She normally liked to wait at least five years before attending such events to see if they had staying power. Though sometimes she would make exceptions to the self-imposed rule. Two possible reasons she might do so would be if the designers truly were promising or if the popularity was worth investigating. SWAG was just in its fourth year, which meant it was at a cusp. It was named for the nickname of the popular grab bags handed out at the great after-event parties for other award shows and was started as a space for designers to show off their wares and lure stars, persons famous and persons of wealth to wear, buy or show their work; just like all the other shows.

Miranda's people had always spoken highly of it, which is why she chose, when she examined the invitations, to attend a few of its showings. Not all of them, as she had no interest in creating a hustle and bustle calendar this go around, but enough to make some editorial decisions and to sic her people on some of the latest designs while "hot off the design table." A good sampling would be enough to shut Irv up.

The second reason, was one she was trying not to think about at the moment, as she was already riled. Though, despite herself, she would sneak a peek at the site to see if an update had been made. Which, other than a brief message of, "Going surfing. Update soon," on the message board, there was nothing.

Miranda did not peek at the entry that had caused her inner furor in the first place. That would have been self-defeating.

Besides, she already knew that Nan would probably be there to greet her. She'd received a text message stating so just before they'd taken off.

So, no reason to get stirred up about anything except plans and preparations.

No reason at all.

\- TDWP -

It was a gorgeous day, warm with enough of an edge to a pulsating heat to make surf and shade appealing, but not so hot one just wanted to stay indoors. The waves were perfect for a beginner, not choppy, but smooth and depending on where one picked them up deep or shallow for the running.

Andy stood by her board, recently purchased and prepared under the careful tutelage of Sam, and listened as her vampire "cousin" gave her a review of what to expect and what the rules were. She and Sam both wore sunscreen and skimpy bathing suits, while the hulking bodyguards behind them wore black jeans and shirts and shoes and shades.

They weren't sweating, but Andy had already insisted that they put up a tall umbrella stand for them. It somehow did not make them seem any less sinister, but it did add amusement to Sam and Andy's day. Neither woman was oblivious to the looks they were getting from both men and women. They were especially not oblivious to the looks the guards were getting from both men and women. It was awesome.

The beach was very crowded, with sun seekers, swimmers and surfers. It was chosen because the surf was right, not because any of them had wanted to be at a particular public venue. Though, really, it was kind of refreshing. Andy had already eaten a frozen grape and lemon icee from one of the ubiquitous stands with great delight.

Both Sam and Andy carried waterproof cameras, strapped on at the wrist. They had been taking pictures liberally; recording them not for themselves, but for Nan and Dorene, who would want to see everything that they'd missed.

"Ready?" Sam asked finally, as they both checked everything one last time, including the bonds around their ankles that attached them to the boards.

Andy still wasn't quite sure if it was to make sure the boards didn't get loose or she didn't. Not that it stopped her from answering. "Totally. Let's do it."

Sam grinned at her then and at a pace that a human could keep up with, walked with the board to the waves.

\- TDWP -

Things kludged up after the landing as people on the plane prepared to debark and find their luggage. For some reason, random stalls to simply being able to exit and get on with life seemed to pop up. In this case, it had been an apparently important missing piece of carry-on luggage and no one had been allowed off the plane until it was found, not even her prestigious self.

What it meant in practical terms, was that Miranda left with her people; as a leader should. But also, that anyone waiting for her, had as long a wait as she did. It was guaranteed they were more patient about it than she.

\- TDWP -

Nan was not a pacer. She was one to settle beautifully, to lounge, perhaps to stroll if she must, but not to march back and forth like some wild thing.

Unless, it had to do with Miranda. Then...

She could count on one hand the number of times she'd found herself unable to settle due to something related to her friend. Three times it had been about things one might think of as reasonable; the birth of the twins and various dangerous happenings political and personal. In this case, dangerous meant life threatening. Miranda was very skilled at being at the top, but it did not mean that there were not those who vied for the position or who wanted to expand their territory. Normally it wasn't anything to worry about, but sometimes... things got scary.

She had anticipated a wait, of course, and had timed their arrival with due consideration for what she'd thought might be needed. But she realized, the longer it took, that Miranda had brought a full team.

Well. Naturally.

But she'd had, perhaps unreasonably, a hope that Miranda had keyed into a truth and had acted accordingly.

Now she had to take into account that perhaps, as unlikely as it seemed, Miranda was honestly... unaware. Or, so tangentially so, that... she was actually going to work.

It seemed impossible. Yet...

Well, her behaviors and choices were sometimes unpredictable. But Nan suddenly comprehended that she could not begin to guess what the Matriarch's choices would be now.

Thus, she paced, hoping to think her way through an introduction which now held an unexpected hazard.

When she stopped, it wasn't because Miranda had suddenly appeared. It was to stand in front of Dorene, who had been quietly and supportively watching the socialite's odd behavior. "I can't tell her who you are yet."

"I see." Dorene's expression was even, nearly serene. "And so, what are you going to do?"

"Well, I have to tell her who you are. She needs to know."

"Mmhmm."

"First name, only. I'm sorry, Dr. Sachs, but..."

"Nan?"

"Yes."

"We are friends, are we not?"

"Of course."

"Then first name is good with me. If she wants my last name, she'll ask, right? Just so long as you don't call me Dor. Or Rene. I'll be good." She leaned forward. "After all. I trust you. As you trust me." The professor lifted her fingertips and touched the point where the mark of Nan's bite had long since disappeared. But the motion of her hand displayed the mark that had appeared overnight, as her body had processed the change.

Nan stepped back and looked into the other woman's now amused gaze. "Oh. Right."

Dorene smiled then. "So then, the plan is?"

"I don't know yet. I was going to take her to lunch and explain about the marks, but... it depended on what she planned on doing, which I knew would involve a little work, but..."

"We play by ear then. No worries. Andy's out having fun. I'm looking forward to meeting her famous ex-boss. I'll keep my mouth shut until you tell me differently. It'll be fine."

Nan's smile was one filled with resignation and relief. "I surely hope so."

\- TDWP -

Andy was indeed having fun. She'd managed several belly, side and back flops, lots of splashing, some unbalanced steerage and finally, a smooth ride with both feet on the board that lasted about thirty seconds. The brief success had immediately prompted her to want more. Sam patiently went along with her enthusiasm, grinning right back as they sought the next small swell into shore. "This is amazing!" Andy had not quite shouted. Mostly she was talking loudly because of the distance. It was a form of habit, as she knew that Sam likely did not need her to speak loudly over the sound of waves and people to be heard.

But she did it anyway, because that was part of the fun.

Sam, who understood completely rejoined, "Yes it is!"

"If I lived here, I'd do it every day and probably get no writing done."

That had caused Sam to laugh, even as they both started prepping to stand on the board again. The water lifted, moving quickly and they righted themselves to it and let the wave carry them again.

When they got to the end of the swell, Andy's immediate take was one of childlike wonder. "Again! We've got to do that again!"

So they did.

\- TDWP -

Nan's greeting to Miranda held absolutely none of the worry that she'd revealed to Dorene. She had glided gracefully forward, opening her arms as one of the few who could, and actually laid her lips on her friend's cheek. "Miranda! It is very good to see you."

The editor's smile was spare, as the whole trip had been trying, but she was glad to see her friend. "You act as if we haven't seen each other in weeks."

"Days. Weeks. It always seems so long."

Miranda's grin widened, but her gaze narrowed slightly. It was tone more than anything, but other senses picked up on her friend's worry. "Flatterer." She pulled back and waved her minions to bring the baggage and themselves forward, but her keen gaze never left Nan and her nostrils flared.

Nan replied, accepting the distance as a necessary cover and somewhat grateful for it. She had bathed and dressed very carefully this morning. She did not want to smell too much like Andy, only enough to whet Miranda's curiosity, "Hardly. Tell me, did you leave room for me in your itinerary? I was hoping to take you to lunch." If they could get Miranda into the SUV, then she would probably know just how much contact Nan had with the younger woman. It was something the vampire had prepared for. She searched Miranda's expression for an acknowledgment and saw it diverted by the glance she was shooting toward Dorene whose blood scent held unique similarities to Andy's yet masked it at the same time. Nan reminded herself that Miranda had not scented Andy since she had gained the mark.

It would be a thread then, seeming to the vampire as if Nan had seen Andy from a distance, because it would have altered just enough from what Miranda knew... and Andy's blood... was battling itself.

Oh. She wouldn't know. Miranda would really think all Nan had to offer was a message.

Nan forced herself to keep her expression open and welcoming. Hopeful, like a best friend's wish to spend time with her friend, which she was.

"I'm afraid I don't have time, but perhaps dinner?" Miranda called one of her assistants over. "Will two hours be enough?"

"That's generous, but you may find that we fill it easily. I'd rather more, if you can. On the other hand..."

Miranda's hand settled on Nan's forearm. "I'll clear the evening. I'm sure you have things you want to..." Her eyes flicked a glance at the human woman who stood only a few feet away, "... discuss with me."

"Yes. I was thinking you would want a ride, but..."

"My assistants have seen to it, thank you."

"Well, I won't keep you then. Dorene and I will be on our way."

"Dorene?" Miranda glanced at the woman again, who gave her a half wave that was vaguely reminiscent of one she'd received some time ago. Only, it was without that smile. Dorene accompanied the wave with something more like a twitch of the lips. It was nothing at all like unto the one that Andrea had given her some years ago. Miranda filed it away in her thoughts as non-remarkable.

"A friend."

"Ah. A friend. Really, Nan. You pick them up all over the place." It was a tease.

"It's my charm. I did wish to introduce you to her..."

"Well, surely it can be done at dinner."

Nan blinked, because normally Miranda did not put her off. Then, because it might work better this way anyhow, she bowed. "I'll make sure your assistant has the address. It will be semi-informal. A cocktail dress, or shorts or slacks. Your choice. There's a pool if you're interested. I will inform Thomas, our host, that you will be arriving." She then, very briefly, sketched out Thomas' status as a lord with territory to Miranda and that she'd vetted him as worthy. She realized it was a risk, not fully informing her friend, but every indication was that Miranda did not care to be informed.

Which probably meant that she was actually wanting the exact opposite, but biding her time.

"I shall be pleased to attend. Thank you for understanding, Nan. I must get my staff settled now." This time it was Miranda who kissed Nan's cheek. She flicked a passing glance at Dorene and then she was off, stalking away like a lioness.

Dorene waited a few minutes as Miranda's followers hurried to catch up with their boss, moving with the sound of heels and wheels and busy chatter. Then she drawled, "Well, that was interesting."

"One way to put it," Nan replied and then, just because it fit the moment, she puffed some air up from her lips in frustration.

\- TDWP -

The hours seemed to fly away. The sun hit zenith and rolled back down the sky slowly, all without Andy really noticing. Until one moment she was fine and the next she was tired. Again, she'd probably pushed things a bit, but it was a good tired. Satisfying. And she'd gotten to ride a few bigger waves, which made her feel confident.

Sam's hug and resigned words of, "Last one," still hung with her and she'd taken to the water with a renewed burst of enthusiasm; temporary adrenaline, which she knew meant she'd probably sleep on the way home. But it would be with a smile on her face. She paddled out, not for the first time wishing the board had a mini motor attached to it to handle that chore; but it was its own measurement of ability too. And, despite her illness, Andy had always had a lot of endurance. That was one of the reasons she'd done so well at Runway and in her chosen profession in the first place.

She made a mental note of where she was in relation to everything, beach, bathers, other surfers. She waved at a couple who seemed a little close and then moved away out of courtesy, making sure to leave room so everyone could catch the next swell safely. She spotted Sam and waved to her too, smiling brightly.

Then, at the right time, feeling good about the choice to call it a day after this last beautiful ride, she stood up on her board; now an old hand at it. Her toes gripped and her body found its balance, as the water carried her and her board and she directed her motion with a much more practiced ease.

The swell of water which rolled over her head felt like a friend, a companion, which was only pushing her in the right direction. The speed was thrilling.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone closing in on her and thought, at first, it was Sam. Then she recognized it as one of the other surfers she'd moved away from. She didn't think anything of it really, except that she probably needed to navigate away.

She didn't have a chance.

The surfer knocked her board and she felt herself skidding off, turned to see him reach as if to grab her. And she was struck by how pale he was.

Then because neither were paying attention, the water struck and she fell off the board, tumbling hard into the deep.

She only caught her breath by accident, and then it wasn't much of one. The board yanked her about and there was a commotion. She saw a flash of silver, felt the taut line which connected her foot to her board disconnect and she felt a suction, a pull, as if the ocean were claiming her.

She struggled, just a for a moment, tried to right herself, to see the board. But she was already so tired.

Then, like an epiphany, she realized she didn't have to struggle any more.

Ah. This was it then. The moment she'd been dreading and fighting and hoping for.

Her breath left her body, as the instinct to breathe and the force of the water pushed the issue. She drew in a lungful of water and it hurt, but she wasn't afraid of it. Her body wrestled against the tide, but her mind did not.

She felt strong arms grab her, and powerful swift motion as she was dragged up and out and through the water.

She heard Sam calling her name, barely remembered retching and the expulsion of water from her body. Then she was cradled, warm to cool, held tightly and rocked as she wept.

\- TDWP -

Miranda arrived exactly on time, looking sharper than the diamonds that sparkled in her ears, on her neck and arm. The gems stood out against the black of the little black dress with its hemline decorously above the knee, but its collar, dangerously dropped into a revealing, cleavage filled "v". She glided on her shiny black heels with nary a clack at all, into the the foyer of the mansion. She respected the design, appreciated the colors, and was very glad that her friend was there, waiting. She'd half thought she might have the wrong address.

"Miranda!" Nan's greeting was much less formal, much more embracing. "Welcome. Thomas is on his way, but I wanted to take a moment to warn you, to ask you to ..."

Before Nan could say more, the person she'd been speaking of entered the room.

Miranda stepped away abruptly and, like someone throwing a switch, her features went cold and dangerous.

Thomas stopped exactly where he was, rooted, both by his sudden awareness of danger, and by the pressure of a Matriarch's presence. Even his guard, two steps behind, went into submission. Desire and fear blended with the need to bend and supplicate.

Even Nan, who could not begin to say she had an immunity, quivered under the compulsion.

One moment Thomas was on one side of the hall. The next, he was in Miranda's grasp. She held him by the neck, just a palm's touch, so it had all the appearance of gentle. He leaned into that touch, whimpered for it. Even as he knew how deadly and how quickly it could turn.

She bent forward, sniffing his neck. Her teeth were dangerously close. "Have you harmed my Andrea?"

His answer was instant, true. "No. Never."

"Yet... you have tasted her." The growl and force behind her words forced a bead of sweat upon his brow. Red trickled down his forehead, dribbled past his nose.

An expulsion of breath, the remnant needed to answer, escaped from him. He whined in her grasp, twisted to reveal his neck to her. Begged with his eyes.

Nan dared, though she had not felt this kind of fear around her friend in a very long time. But clarification had to happen fast and it needed to be enough. "Yes, he has, but it was Andy's gift to him. Her choice. Miranda." And now she touched Miranda's arm, though it made her quake to do so, "Andy is not thralled. They are friends and family of the heart. He stands as a guard to her. And to her born family."

"Guard?" Miranda heard everything, but she latched onto that one word. "Why does my Andrea need a guard?"

Another person spoke, a woman. Miranda's attention turned. Her blue eyes had gone a purple so deep it was near crimson, the color of blood. Dorene stood in the middle of one of the doorways, leaning against the frame for support. "Because she does. We all do. Please stop. Whatever you're doing. Stop. It's too much."

"And what is it to you?"

"She's my niece. And he's our cousin. Stop it."

Miranda growled, and then, because it was her right, her head snapped forward and her teeth dug into him. He screamed out. At first. Because it surely did not start out pleasant. But her bite changed as she tasted him.

Then his expression changed. His body flexed as pleasure ripped through him. He spoke, finally, a whisper and then a pledge, binding his family and his all to her in ancient word and oath. And she released his neck, but only bending his head forward, all with that delicate deadly pressure in her palm. She kissed him then, deep and owning. His mouth opened and she scored her tongue enough to let blood out.

Her grip changed then, and she held him by the back of his head as then she bit his tongue. He cried out, at first in natural instinctive struggle and then moaned in needful pleasure. He whispered, "Please..."

"You are mine now." She wouldn't have anyone guarding Andrea who wasn't hers.

"Yes," he hissed as his blood toiled and shifted. He buckled and spent, the orgasm ripping through him. She briefly held him to her, long enough to heal the bite on his tongue and then she tore her lips back down to the column of his neck and closed the wound there.

He leaned against her, still convulsing lightly. Her arm wrapped around him, this time protectively. Her own dark rage was … mostly... appeased. Enough so that she felt more amenable to the aunt's request.

Dorene sagged against the doorway as the compulsion waned; eased.

"I want," Miranda said very slowly, very clearly, "an explanation."

That was when the front door slammed open and they all heard, "I can walk. I'm just tired." Miranda's ears perked, twitched at the sound of Andrea's voice. She ached at the weariness held in the young woman's voice.

"No." Came the reply, a woman's voice. Miranda's eyes narrowed and she saw Nan through the corner of her eyes lift her hands as if in supplication, a plea for patience. She curled her lip dangerously. Heard the rest. "You mean you can stagger, and there is no way I'm going to let my Dad or your Aunts see you wobbling around. And, before you start up again, my friend, you're seeing Dr. Acheson. I already made the call."

"What? No. I just need a little rest," the young woman protested.

"You need a..." The bickering stopped as a blonde woman, who carried the brunette, came to a complete halt.

Both women's eyes went very wide.

Andy, feeling as if things were moving in slow, shocking motion, finally lifted her hand and made a tiny, now familiar, and obviously familial, wave. "Um. Obviously we're interrupting. Hi, everyone. Hi, Miranda. Um. Sam is going to take me to … to... "

Shock flipped the historian's mental catalogue off. "The medical thingy …"

Andy wasn't much better. "Yeah. There. Nice to see you, Miranda. Don't kill Tom. He's my friend. Sam…," the brunette said leadingly, cajolingly.

"Right. Heading out now. Dad?"

"He's fine." Nan said, suddenly wanting to move things along and she bustled forward, until she was nearly pushing Sam from behind. "You take Andy on to the doctor, I'm sure it will be just fine."

"What happened?!" Miranda snapped out, in that deadly sultry voice of hers and quiet and stillness descended.

Andy cleared her throat, which was still tender from all that water expulsion. But she managed a squeaked out, "Surfing accident. I'm okay. Really."

Sam rolled her eyes. "She nearly drowned," she corrected. Then, as if compelled by the sharpened gaze of the Matriarch, she added. "Someone tried to take her."

\- TDWP -


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

A/N - Just wanted to post a quick thank you to those who review. I don't always reply, because I'm not always up to it, but I do always appreciate them. Thank you.

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 8

Always the peacemaker, Andy said, "No. The boards collided and I fell off. The guy on the other board reached to stop me, but I was down in the water too fast. My thingy broke and..."

"It was cut. I went after the one with the knife, while Cole and Daniel took care of the other one."

Andy's eyes went wide and her attention turned to her friend. "Knife!" Her gaze narrowed, though she couldn't recall any wincing, that didn't mean there hadn't been. "Did you get cut?"

"Yes, but I'm fine. It was nothing, Andy."

"Sam!"

"Nothing," repeated the blonde. "We heal fast. Don't worry about it."

"Then you definitely should not be carrying me. So help me, if I were stronger, I'd kick your …"

"Andrea." It was the tone of voice, the caress of her name, that caused Andy to pause in her diatribe. And to flush. Miranda continued, as if she hadn't just spun the brunette's world, "Let Sam finish. Though Sam can hardly be a fit name for..."

"It's Samantha," Andy deflated. "I call her Sam because..."

Miranda lifted a silencing finger, which halted the brunette mid-speech. Or maybe it was the way her eyes, now only striped with the crimson that once filled them, locked onto Andy's. For a moment, the brunette thought she spotted more amusement than irritation, but she was still absorbing the way the blue seemed even brighter, even more outstanding with those red highlights. "I did not ask for an explanation about it. Continue, Samantha."

Andy was nearly completely distracted, and because Miranda's attention was on the writer, Sam's gaze slid from the powerful vampire to her father. "Dad, I think they were Paul's."

That brought Miranda's attention back to her, but Sam was watching Tom. Her sire, who was still gathering himself, suddenly straightened. "What?" Of course, he'd heard her perfectly the first time. It was shock that lent power to the question. But then his expression turned very grim, very angry. It wasn't an expression that Andy was used to seeing on his face. "He wouldn't dare..."

"I know he was your friend once, but he's been angling for an expansion for years. Anyone could see it. First it was Terry ..." Tom visibly winced, but the recent changes in his life kept him from folding. Still, there was a grief in his gaze that deepened as soon as his lover... ex-lover... had been named.

Andy's eyes widened, as she recognized the sadness, if not the name. That had to have been Tom's beloved.

Sam continued inexorably, "He wants what you have. Like he always has. You remember how he stole Terry from you, getting our grandsire to practically order it done. All for the nominal sake of a stronger fiscal foothold and 'alliance,'" Sam hissed that last word disparagingly. "He wouldn't pass up a chance like this. You know Connie's coming tonight right? So Dr. Acheson can concoct that serum. That makes all three under one roof, Dad. Of course he was going to try. He'd justify it by saying you wouldn't miss one and that it would keep the balance."

"I thought," Dorene said slowly, "that we have free passage. Could go anywhere we want. I recall asking about this very thing."

"Of course you can. But it's complicated. And..."

"Samantha," Miranda interjected smoothly and a little too calmly. "Three of what?"

If it were possible for eyes to go wider...

Nan cleared her throat and stepped forward, in front of Andy, but not enough to obscure either the Matriarch's view nor the younger woman's. "Yes. About that. You recall I wanted to speak to you..."

"Nan." Miranda said, then more gently that she would have for any other, except, perhaps for her twins, "Get on with it."

"Right." Nan turned. "Dorene, if you would please." The socialite extended a hand and the professor marched toward her, until she was also in front of Andy, not blocking the view, but now that there were two of them, symbolically in guard positions, Miranda's eyes had begun to narrow and her expression tighten.

Dorene pulled a packet out of her jean pocket, one that had been tucked there for the purpose. She looked at Nan as she tore the packet open and another person might have taken it for a dare. Nan just accepted the now open packet, drew out the wipe and carefully took Dorene's hand.

Then, eyes on Dorene, she massaged the webbing between thumb and index finger on the professor's right hand, until the mark was revealed.

Nan smiled ruefully as she finally returned her attention to her friend, gently drawing Dorene forward with her. She lifted the hand, revealing the mark fully for the Matriarch's view.

Miranda's gaze slid down. It was only years and years and years of experience which kept her expression from morphing into outright shock. "The Branch?"

"Yes. Part of a triumvirate."

Miranda nearly sucked in an unneeded breath. "All three? Now?"

"Yes, and all from one family."

"A full bloodline?" This time a new emotion tinged Miranda's expression. Awe.

Tom spoke, "And all under the care of my...Your House, Matriarch."

Miranda's turning was so instant it wasn't even really visible. One moment she was in front of Nan and Dorene, the next she was back at Tom's side and glaring him down, hand on his wrist. "Willingly, Matriarch. They all were willing."

"Except for Connie. At first. He tells us the group that had him had a difficult time letting him go. But... he came home and we kept him safe." Dorene's tone was challenging, proud. Nan's expression became thoughtful and then respectful as she realized what bravery the other woman had shown; and how much love she had for her niece.

Miranda asked, gentling her grip on her new son's arm, but she did not let go. "Did they come after him?"

"We dusted the whole group. They didn't bother him after that. They might have turned him, but he's ours."

"Did he tell you the line of the one who kept him?" A dangerous thrum in her tone pushed for an answer.

Dorene blinked and spread her legs in a naturally defensive posture. Nan still had one hand in hers, but the other, fisted tightly.

The socialite applied a reassuring pressure to her grip and leaned and whispered. "She will avenge. You may trust her with this."

"We did our own revenging." Dorene replied equally sotto, but her voice lifted, knowing that Miranda likely had heard anyhow, "But if you have to know. They called themselves Morvant."

Miranda's growl could be felt through the house. "I see." She turned her attention to Tom, "I suppose it would be too much if Paul were Morvant."

Tom shook his head in the negative. "We don't have many in California. He's Tosri."

"You are now Prestre."

"Yes." His eyes hungered for her and she kissed him, softened the touch before releasing him. "See that your bloodline is cleansed."

"Yes. I will."

She flicked a glance at the blonde, whose spine stiffened under her gaze and whose grasp on the brunette tightened carefully. "Samantha first."

"Of course, Matriarch."

"What is this..." Andy tried to straighten, "Dang it, Sam, put me down."

"No."

"I won't wobble if I'm leaning against you."

"Still no."

Andy grimaced and then tossed out, "What the heck is this cleansing thing? There's nothing wrong with Sam and Tom."

"It's okay, Andy," Sam replied. Her eyes on her sire. "The bloodline has changed. Miranda's blood was stronger and her claim is prime. No one in our House can remain part of the other and stay. By right as sire, Dad will call his line to him and he'll offer a taste..." Sam's eyes lit with a warm, bright hunger and her teeth drew down. She licked them unselfconsciously, slightly erotically. "And if the blood is true, we will all take on her mantle. We will all be hers."

Miranda's attention turned to Dorene, "Connie will be Prestre. He will become a son to Thomas and always have a place in our home. The line is true and ancient. Very strong. Nan can attest. And now Thomas can as well."

"Does he have a choice?" Doreen demanded, not intimidated in the least bit of the seemingly all-powerful woman.

Miranda's nostrils flared at the challenge and she offered her teeth in a kind of grin. "Of course. But he will choose us."

For a moment Andy's heart beat so loud she thought she could hear it all over. A memory, slotted for retrieval only on her worst days, suddenly rose to the surface. In her mind's eye, she saw Miranda turning, putting on the shades she always wore in the daylight. "Everyone wants to be us.

Her "oh," was barely audible, barely discernible.

But when she looked up, Miranda was steadily gazing at her, her eyes finally a clear blue that reminded Andy of the skies. "Sam," she said, needing to recline more than she'd been admitting. "I think you better get me to the medical center. I want to lay down."

"Sure, Andy. Matriarch?"

Miranda understood that things were not being said and not all things were revealed, but she was very aware that Andrea was not faking her tiredness. Pieces of the puzzle had come together and formed a raw place in her. "You may go."

"Sure, wait for her permission. I'm the one who asked..." Andy began as Sam immediately moved. She was down the hall almost before the first word was spoken.

"Andrea," Miranda's voice soothed, even at a distance. "Don't argue."

When they were out of sight and the writer's range of hearing, "This serum..."

"... is for Andy," Dorene said clearly. "She's not been doing so well. Dr. Acheson says it's her blood."

"She refuses to be turned," Tom added. "She contracted with me. I should have realized..." He laughed softly. "She knows just enough to be dangerous and smart about it."

"I see," Miranda said. "Will the serum work?"

Dorene ran her hand through her hair and looked at Nan and then at Miranda. "It's gotta be tried. And I wish she'd take her pain medication."

"She hasn't been?"

"Hates being muddled. Would rather suffer."

"Not suffer," Nan said. "She's very strong. She'd just rather not... miss anything unnecessarily."

"And she went surfing?" Miranda said in disbelief.

"And skydiving." Dorene supplied.

"And mountain climbing." Nan added.

"And radically gambling." Dorene stated

"Oh, you knew about that?" Nan asked Dorene.

"Well, she told me after I asked how she was paying for the bodyguards in Cincinnati. You know, she was trying to lose all of it. She was so mad at winning that she actually threw a television out the hotel window. They didn't even make her pay for it."

"Well, she shouldn't be paying for the bodyguards, I am," Tom interjected. "Or rather, they are my people. No payment involved."

"Unless she arranged something on her own. Trust me, she's more than capable of finding the best when she wants to. She's a very resourceful gal." Dorene reminded Tom. And Miranda.

"Wait." Miranda snapped out. "Why are there bodyguards in Cincinnati?"

"That's where her family is. Melinda, Dr. Acheson's assistant, has started testing them. He was going to go down there, but Connie offered to come up here. So he's …"

"Spare me the details. Give me the pertinent information."

"The bloodline is being confirmed. There is a possibility that there are more than the primary three."

Unheard of. Miranda extended her hand. "Someone give me a phone. I have calls to make."

Fortunately for Tom's normal crowd, he'd had the foresight once Nan had informed him of Miranda's choice to attend dinner, to make sure that everyone was out of the pool, so to speak. The only people in his mansion were his.

Now hers.

He was acclimating quickly to the thought and, truthfully, if it had been any other Matriarch or Patriarch he might have fought harder, but...

Oh, she was overwhelming. Amazing.

He was very aware of what Andy saw in her. And very aware that Andy was most definitely hers, though perhaps they neither quite knew the how of it.

He suddenly understood Nan's presence and her subtle, but entertaining questing ways. If anyone could help them see the truth...

His mind turned to the Dinner, which they were supposed to be having. "Miranda, with your permission..."

The Matriarch was on the phone and waved a hand at him in dismissal. He didn't take it personally. She had more resources than he did and the fact that she was putting things into motion warned him that this was not a woman to underestimate.

It was only after he'd spoken to William that his change in status fully penetrated. He was a direct son of a Matriarch.

He had to sit down then as a swirl of emotions overtook him. Then he fished out his own phone. It was time to make arrangements of his own for tomorrow.

The original dining space was going to be one of those long affairs, which allowed for ten or twelve or fourteen people, depending. But as Miranda had not brought staff and as Andy was in the infirmary and as really, the only person who needed to eat was Dorene, they had switched rooms.

Not that the vampires let Dorene eat alone, nor did they let her feel unwelcome. But, with the absence of Andy, the professor was a little more aware that she was the one who ran warmest. However, aside from Miranda, whom she still felt was a dangerous and unknown quantity, she knew she was among friends.

She glanced at Nan, who graced her with a smile as warm as she'd ever seen. It took her breath away, for a few moments, but then the socialite began to talk. "Miranda, how are Cassidy and Caroline? I haven't had a chance to ask."

"Well, their father has decided, since I am in California, that it might be fun for them to take in amusement parks. Not here, but there. Apparently someplace called Six Flags."

"Oh. I know that one. Yeah those are fun." Dorene said without even worrying about interrupting. "They have themes, but it's not as overpowering as Disney. However, the rides still thrill." Then she had a thought. "Wait a minute. How old are..."

Nan replied, before anyone could take anything amiss, "Caroline and Cassidy are fourteen."

"But... how..."

"Children of the Body are extremely rare, but possible for Matriarchs and Patriarchs. It seems that their father and I had a physical compatibility, though our other ties were much less so." Miranda said this and then took a sip of wine.

"So. I'm sorry, I know this is rude, but I've never heard of this and all of it... is so new, but... they're just ordinary kids then?"

Miranda sniffed, but her eyes held pride, "There is nothing ordinary about them at all. They are excessively bright, precocious and quite able to scare their parents with their more daring choices."

Now it was Dorene's eyes that twinkled. "So, they're a little like Andy then."

"Andy?"

"Oh, she was a trip growing up. You ought to get her parents to tell you some of the stories. Like, about the time Andy leapt from the barn window with a blanket as her sole means of slowing down. Well, that and a pile of hay at the bottom, fortunately for all. Or the time she decided to see if red really did cause a bull to run at a person. She'd used all her red markers to color the linen tablecloth she cut up and hung on a broken tree limb, like a flag. Fortunately, she was a fast little thing and smart enough to throw the flag away from herself when the going got exciting. She was a good girl, but prone to adventure and brilliance."

"This is Andrea we are speaking of? It just seems as if she were more … docile..."

At that Dorene started to giggle. She dropped her fork and it rang against her plate. By the time they were looking at her, she'd moved into a full chortle. When she saw them looking at her, realized they were staring, she started to outright guffaw. "Docile!" she exclaimed. "Andy? Docile?" She laughed until she had her arms wrapped around her belly and her eyes were moist. And she tried to apologize. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just having difficulty picturing it. No wonder...No wonder her parents... Oh my goodness." She started to fan herself, her chest heaving with the emotion and the amusement.

Miranda was not one to gape, and so she did not stare at Dorene, who strove to put herself together after that bout of mirth. Nor did she hold the amusement against her, as it was a telling moment, one that was honest in its eruption. But she was taken aback, enough so that she began to think about her conclusions regarding the writer; which had been built as the young woman had striven to accommodate herself to a world she did not understand.

She recalled the things that had sparked her interest in the first place. The change in Andrea's wardrobe was a given, but it was the fire in her eyes, when she'd delivered the Harry Potter book, against all odds and took the assignment to the next level. That had set something alight in Miranda. It had also shown, yes, that the girl had spunk. And she'd proven it again, as she'd begun cleverly delivering each new assignment; sometimes very exactly or sometimes above and beyond. Then there was the passion heaving in her when she'd arrived at her door, knocking a demand for entrance, and smelling of sex and Paris, all because she'd wanted to warn Miranda ...

Could the girl leap tall buildings?

Apparently she had been trying to all her life.

And this was the piece that Miranda had not understood, had not seen about the girl; only sensed. It was as if Andy had cast a glamour upon herself, so that those who did not know her would be blind to the truth of her brightness.

Or too busy and caught up in their own dealings to really notice.

Miranda's smile was cool, but did hold a genuine sense of amusement to it. "No need to apologize. Apparently she was very careful in what she revealed at work. It is the sign of a person who understands the need for a professional side, aside from that abysmal failure at the end."

"Yeah. She told us about that. Regretted it. I know. But I bet now her leaving makes sense in context. She doesn't do things by halves. She'd have made a great lawyer if she'd wanted to. But while she could tell you law forward and back, she found the legal system a little boring. She'd have been a Judge Harry kind of gal, if she'd gone that route."

"Judge Harry?"

"Oh. He's a bit notorious where we come from. Tends to do magic tricks in the courtroom and offer "alternative" sentences. He's not easy, mind you, but he's definitely quirky."

"I see."

Dorene smiled then, lifted her own wine glass in a silent toast and then sipped, her eyes still sparkling with amusement.

\- TDWP -

Miranda wanted to see the infirmary. She was not in the least surprised to find that the vampire had one, as even she had one in a safe location at home. If one played with blood, one spilled it in other ways often enough.

Nan was her guide, as Dorene had begged off to get ready to go fetch the young vampire cousin and Thomas and Samantha needed some quality time. The Matriarch had no doubt that the blonde would blood true, so she was not worried about her. She was worried about the unknown quantity, that which afflicted Andrea.

They were met in the waiting room by Dr. Acheson.

Nan asked for them both, "How is she?"

"At rest. Sleeping. She will recover."

"Any news from Melinda?"

"Not anything affirmative yet. They have been very cooperative, which is fortunate."

"Not a surprise, however."

"No. I suppose not." The doctor turned his attention to Miranda. "Matriarch. Your call is terrifying and potent. How may I serve?"

Miranda decided she liked this doctor. He didn't waste time.

"I wish to see her."

"Ah, but you are not seeking my permission; only a standard of time. Yes? I do not know if she will wake, but please, keep it short. Fifteen minutes at most. This was a most strenuous day for her."

"Thank you."

"My blood is yours at any time. I will return home. I do not expect a crisis. My other assistant is with her now, to watch over her while in this facility. I have informed Thomas of this and he has said he will see to Andy's return to her room. I believe she would prefer to wake there."

"It will be taken care of, yes." Nan confirmed.

"Excellent." Then, without further ado, he bowed to them both and exited the premises.

Nan waited outside with the assistant, who like Melinda, was astonishingly beautiful. It was no hardship, but oddly, she found herself less interested than usual.

Miranda, meanwhile, stood silently at the side of the bed, one hand wrapped around the cool safety bar, watching the young woman sleep. She had yet to touch Andrea. Their relationship before had been formal, predicated on the understanding that one did not touch very much on the job. But she yearned to reach out, to brush away the bangs which drooped and covered part of the girl's face, to thread her fingers through her hair, which Miranda understood now, had not been cut, but rather, regrown.

"Andrea." The name was a whisper on her lips, but she watched as the girl stirred in response. And drew in a breath as she saw markers of arousal, a flush to the skin, the rise of nipples. It was not an axiom that a name said would cause such a reaction; there had to be a base need to begin with.

Miranda leaned forward, intending... she wasn't sure what, but she scented along Andrea's neck, tasting the hint of her flavor in the air, the tang that was the writer. She spoke into the girl's ear, a seductive, siren call.

Andrea's breath caught and then she shivered, not in fear, but in physical reaction. "Miranda," she exhaled, her voice low and sweet; asleep.

Miranda was not prepared for the potency of the draw, the desire to answer and claim was suddenly strong and deep. She hovered her fingertips over the girl's pulse, feeling the heat, wanting it. Wanting her.

Her hand was grasped, not hard, but strongly. And it was pulled, drawing her closer, a little uncomfortably so, until her palm rested over the brunette's heart. The beat there summoned her blood, pushed her own pulse; made her ache with need from tooth to center.

Her teeth unsheathed in response to her abrupt arousal.

It took everything she had to pull away, to gently extricate herself from that tender sleeping grasp. And it was then she spotted the mark, the flying snake, alight on the fruited tree. The puzzle snapped together, locking firmly in place. She looked for Andrea's other hand. It was under the covers.

Greatly daring, she reached, intending only to move the sheet, but again her hand was grasped; as if Andrea could not resist the need to touch her, to hold to her.

So Miranda took advantage, seeing no reason not to, and lifted the hand that clasped hers.

Oh.

It wasn't even a whisper of air, but the mark of the golden apple seemed to glow to her eyes; to pulse a light in time with Andrea's heartbeat, as if it wanted her to take a bite.

Oh.

She used her other hand to pry open the girl's suddenly strong grip, but did so as gently as she could. Andrea's eyes were still closed. Her breath that of the sleeper.

"Don't leave," Andy whispered, her voice an ache. "Don't let me go again."

Miranda didn't dare make that promise, not for either case. The silver-haired woman drew her fingertips along the girl's temple down the side of her face, however, needing the touch as much as wanting it. "Rest, Andrea. Tomorrow comes all too soon."

She waited, until the girl returned to her deeper slumber. Then, while she was able and before the temptation to take the girl into her arms and to her room to claim her took over, she stepped away and out.

\- TDWP -


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 9

Andy, who almost thought she'd dreamed of Miranda as a very scary, yet incredibly sexy 'boy-I-want-her' vampire, was up in time for breakfast. She ached in places she did not know she had, felt stretched, from both the exercise of the adventure and from the memory of what had come afterward. She rolled out of bed. Slowly. Her eyes took in the normalcy of the room, how everything seemed to be where it should be, yet at the same time she felt …

Well, off wasn't the right word. In fact in some ways, from a certain perspective, she actually felt less off than she had in... days and months and years.

She glanced at her night stand. Two oval pills, on a piece of paper. On the paper was written a command, "Pain relievers. Take them. Do not disappoint me."

It was enough to set her trembling, because she recognized the handwriting; and the terseness.

It also made her smile.

\- TDWP -

Things had changed while she slept. Not all of it was visually apparent, but she could feel the shift anyhow. The house seemed, impossibly, more vibrant somehow; as if, just by Miranda's mere presence the night before, everything had become energized. Certainly, Andy perceived there were more people, not stars, but as in Tom's people and others, in the house; some of them wandered about with a profound and glazed look to their eyes, while others appeared to be waiting in line. At least there was enough seating.

It was a bit different though, because those who were waiting looked at her a bit like she was lunch. Or rather breakfast.

It was disconcerting. Because pretty much the whole time she'd been in Tom's company, she'd never had the sense of vampires acting as predators toward her.

Before she could feel too weird about it, she was found and rescued.

"Andy! How are you feeling?"

"Achy, but alright, Nan." She accepted the hug, squeezed tightly and smiled. "Who are all these people?" She ran her thumb in the general direction of the line.

Nan's answering grin was much toothier than she was used to, as was her answer, "Dead if they don't put their eyes back in their heads and cut the intimidating crap." She growled out, her attention outward. "This is Andrea. She is Asclepius and the Matriarch's... guest."

The change in the atmosphere was palpable, like the shift in tension after rain. "Whoa."

"Indeed. Ignore the dominance games, darling. You and I know who is top dog and it's not these children. Come along." They started walking in the direction of the dining hall, with the socialite's arm looped through Andy's. Nan spoke, "I meant to have someone there to walk with you when you awakened. I do apologize. It's been a busy night."

"So it seems. Is Tom alright? Sam?"

Nan's smile was almost as good as her hug, "They are fine, darling. Better than fine. Your cousin arrived safely. He was offered the opportunity to transition early, so I'm afraid you missed that part. He's resting for the moment."

Andy couldn't help herself, "And recuperating? Sorry, it's a joke between Tom and I."

"I understand. Yes. He is recuperating. A cleansing of the blood can be exhilarating, but it's taxing."

"Well, that actually makes sense to me." She had come to understand quite intimately how blood run amok could tax a person. "Oh, I smell eggs, pancakes and bacon."

"We thought the morning could do with something a little more substantive than a danish and coffee."

"You were right." Andy said, even as her stomach growled for food. She leaned close, "And Miranda... she was... I didn't imagine..."

"She was here and she stayed awhile, but she had to go. She did come ostensibly to work."

"Ah. Yeah. Think we could get in? To SWAG, I mean? You, me, Dorene, Connie and Sam?"

Nan flashed a grin. "I like the way you think. Have I mentioned that? I think things could be arranged, yes." Then she waved out at the table, where a breakfast banquet was set. "Now. Go. Eat, while I go threaten the savages again."

Andy grasped her by the forearm, "Nan, are you alright?"

"Of course I am. I am merely playing my role as Miranda's second this morning. It's all well."

\- TDWP -

It was a work of perhaps ten minutes to procure five full ride passes, given the minions and childer who were present in Tom's abode. All she had to do was mention the idea to Sam who immediately took charge and "procured" the wanted items. Sometimes it was very good to be on top of the blood-chain.

It wasn't just Tom's people in the mansion either. The presence of the Matriarch, and the call of her blood was like a beacon to those who were already of Prestre; especially as the gathering changed and transitioned and the power "leaked" to the outside world. They came, either summoned by one of Miranda's phone calls, or by picking up on the shift in the power dynamics.

Nan was quite serious when she said she was busy being Miranda's second. It was not, at this particular moment, a set of duties she could shift until a worthy Childe or two arrived to assist. And even then, as power coalesced and the territory expanded exponentially, there would be challenges.

She was aware that Tom had already invited Paul and sundry other Tosri to dinner that evening. She was girding her loins for the inevitable excitement. She had no doubt Miranda also knew of Tom's plans and would find occasion to be at his dinner table, again.

Speaking of excitement, she heard a commotion in the distance, which started out, "Are you lost? Shall I show you the way?"

It sounded innocuous enough, when phrased that way, but the words were hungry and trembled with a longing for blood.

A new childe then, perhaps even just a minion hoping to raise themselves. They so often lacked subtlety.

"Whelp," said a voice that Nan had grown far too accustomed to, "You best watch your back. Wood in a bullet is just as effective as a stake, and I took state championship five years in a row. National two. I can take you out faster than you can …"

A rushing sound all but echoed as Nan flashed toward the room, but even as she hastened she heard the sound of something being broken, of flesh meeting flesh, of a cry of pain and then she was there; just in time to watch as Dorene thrust powerfully at the vampire's chest.

"What? No!" He looked down, aghast at the broken shard of wood, a remnant of a chair, that was plunged into his heart. Then it was a flash of fire and ashes and the smoke leftover.

Dorene looked around at those who, apparently, had decided to watch the outcome rather than join in, cautious in the face of being in their Liege's house. Wisely so. "Yeah. You didn't want him anyway. Too dumb to pound sand."

Nan's nostrils flared and she was beside the professor, holding her by the forearms and looking at the gouge in one arm; apparently the one she'd used to break the chair. Blood pooled in a long, thick, dripping line. It was agonizingly compelling. "You're hurt."

Dorene's eyes were not amused, but she was apparently still willing to tease. "Want to kiss it and make it better?"

"Dorene..."

"I thought these kids had been informed..." Some of the vampires watching shifted on their feet and stared at Dorene oddly, as they had long ago passed the kid stage. Others were still staring at the pile of dust or salivating, because of the copper tang and the essence of her particular mix, that which made her Asclepius, was very potent.

Nan wanted to lift her, carry her away. To do more than just cajole her to getting her arm looked at... "They have been, but we've had so many come in so quickly. I'm not sure everyone is getting the word. Dorene, this needs seeing to..."

"So, lick it. Fix it. Might as well not let it go to waste. I'm apparently not using it anymore."

"You are maddening. I'm taking you to the …"

"Nan, don't waste my time. I don't make this offer to just any vampire you know."

Nan actually caught her breath. In fact, many in the room did. She grimaced then, not a smile and said, "Fine."

She let her grip tighten, but Dorene didn't flinch. In fact she watched her, eyes bright with a dare in them. Nan lifted Dorene's arm then, and because she could, extended her tongue. She slid it from pulse point, to the jagged line that ran down to the fold of the arm. She had intended to resist, but as soon as the blood hit, she found herself closing her eyes, humming against Dorene's skin and the lick became more intimate, a tonguing kiss, one that slid until her lips were pressed to the tender erogenous zone.

She knew she "won" when Dorene gasped and she felt a certain kind of heat rise from her body, but suddenly the winning didn't matter. She pulled back, feeling more flush than she really ought to. "It might have helped if you'd leave your marks visible, in house."

"They should know better than to hassle guests in the house. It shows lack of respect for the …"

"Liege."

"I was thinking of Miranda."

"Matriarch."

"Yes." Dorene's eyes flicked to the watching vampires. She pointed at one and as she spoke, another and then another, making sure to make eye contact as she did so. "So let's get this straight. I'm Aunt Dorene. What this means to you is, I may be human, but I'm higher up the chain than you. Get over it and get a hold of yourselves. From what I know of the Matriarch, she won't play with people who can't control themselves around guests in her house. And she'll do worse than this," she pointed at the dust on the ground, "... to you if you let anything, and I do mean anything, happen to one of us. It shouldn't matter if they have a mark or not. What matters is that if they're in the house, they're not meat, they're not lunch, and they for damn sure aren't yours."

"Maybe I should just let you do the indoctrination." Nan said bemusedly.

Dorene's gaze was hard, right until she met Nan's eyes, then they softened. A little. Nan was reminded that this woman had just destroyed a vampire. She was no weakling. "Maybe you should. I've been running roughshod over rambunctious hellions for years. Believe me, these ain't nothing compared to Andy and her group of misfits when they get to the real plotting."

Nan's grin was immediate. "Well there's that. We could call it Vampire Manners 101."

Despite herself, Dorene laughed.

\- TDWP -

Apparently object lessons worked very well with vampires. When the Runway employees started arriving, just before noon, with their baggage in tow, not a single one of the humans were hassled or made to feel uncomfortable. In fact, their greeters were downright solicitous.

It was Miranda's thought that, aside from consolidating her base, it would absolutely thrill Irv's greedy heart that Runway employees now had a "permanent" place to stay; so long as she was in power, of course. Most of the employees were even excited at the prospect of staying at a mansion, guest of the producer who now found himself at the center of Miranda's world. It was even better, when they realized that some of the stars they saw at the opening SWAG ceremonies were also making their way to the mansion.

The guest rooms filled up quickly, but even then there were still plenty of rooms left. Some of those were snagged for the purposes of Runway. The staff were ecstatic to have places to store materials and media that weren't rooms that they had to sleep in. And, somehow, the miracle worker that was William, managed to make office spaces for them.

Andy, who was watching the hubbub from a safe location in the nominally quiet atmosphere of the library, said to her cousin, Connie, who had joined her on the couch, "You know, I think he might actually be bi-locating."

Connie grinned his perfect smile and nodded. He had always been a good looking young man, with short-cropped reddish brown hair, a straight nose and hazel eyes. His shoulders were broad, his hips slim. He was muscular without being bulky, having built his frame by lifting hay bales and eating the meals his mother set before him, rather than drinking protein shakes and weight lifting; though it was his brain, a shared family brilliance, which had been the agent of his escape. As a vampire, he was gorgeous.

As Morvant Asclepius, a many, many, many times great grandson to a Patriarch he'd never met and would likely never have met, as the clan "father" had no intention of revealing that he had an Asclepius in his hold, he had the power his blood gave him, which as a vampire wasn't much. He had to grow into it. A vampire grew stronger, and his blood grew more potent, with age and the closer to the source, the more powerful the start. As Prestre Asclepius, a grandson, he was maturing quickly, compellingly charming, and was also much more dangerous.

Except to Andy, who only saw him as her cousin, just with sharper teeth. So, as with Tom, she had absolutely no compunction about leaning against him. Nor did she need to fear him. Though he was young, he had quickly learned control and his family, Sachs (and now Prestre) was his pride and he loved them; perhaps even more so now than he had before he'd been turned. They had, after all, accepted him and come to his aid when he most needed them. He could only do the same for them. He held his ailing cousin with a gentle arm around her waist as they caught up with one another, speaking in low tones about the more recent events in their lives as they watched the hustle and bustle together.

One of those rushing persons passed by and did a double take, coming back and then through the wide-open double doors that led to the library.

"Six?"

Andrea sat up, not quite breaking away from her cousin, whose hold had been loose to begin with. "Nigel?" she queried in astonishment.

"Six! It is you! I thought I recognized your name being bandied about." Nigel, dressed to the nines and looking very upper-professional, sans tie, swept into the library.

Andy stood, opening her arms, fundamentally glad to see her friend. "You look fabulous!"

"I know. Here for the SWAG. Have to look good." He buffed his nails on his collar, offering a charming, sly grin and then he moved forward and took her in his arms.

She heard it, a sound she was kind of getting used to. "You're doing that sniffing thing, aren't you?"

He was taken aback, a touch sheepish, and tried to pull from the hug. She did not let go.

"It's okay. I get it. Connie does it too."

"Connie?"

She let him go then, a comfortable slide instead of the abruptness it would have been. "Right. Nigel Kipling, this is my cousin, Connie Quentin Sachs."

Connie stood up easily. "Hello..."

Nigel extended his hand. "Just call me Nigel. Good to meet you, Connie. Say, have you heard of this Aunt Dorene person? They say she's Miranda's new enforcer."

"Aunt Dorene?" Connie said, before sliding his eyes to Andy, who mostly was managing to appear astonished. "Enforcer?"

"Actually," Andy grimaced, finally, "I can kinda see it. You remember the time she caught us taking the wheels off of the riding lawn mowers ..."

"It's not like anyone was using theirs at the time. We would have put them back," Connie griped in remembrance. "All that grass we had to mow."

"All four of us. For free. And we hadn't even planned anything all that bad."

"Not that she believed us. Nearly all June and part of July. Thank god she relented when it really got hot." The cousins looked at each other with grim, but fond affection. "You really should call Lily. And Doug. They miss you," Connie said gently. "Everyone has missed you."

"She didn't believe us because you're too damn good a liar, Connie." Andy retorted. Then she said, "I wouldn't know what to say. I couldn't tell them. I still..." She, Lily and Doug had overcome their differences while Andy had worked at the Mirror. Really they hadn't been all that bad. Hurtful things had been said, but honestly, a lifetime of friendship held true. And then... things had gone south for the writer and she simply hadn't known how to share the bad news and was too wounded by it to do anything but leave.

Nigel couldn't help but grin as he listened to the conversation ping-pong between subjects.

"She should have believed you, at least. You can't lie to save somebody else's life, much less your own." Connie groused. "Don't tell them. Just have them come up. They'd love the chaos. You know it. I know it. And the fact that you somehow managed to get adopted into a vampire clan will amuse Lily to absolutely no end."

"So Aunt Dorene is real and not a boogie-woman invented to scare young vampires." Nigel cut in before the conversation deteriorated again.

"Oh. She's real alright." Andy said with one of those bright grins that so endeared her to him in the first place, no matter how much he denied it. That much happiness had to be contagious, or something. He usually hated people like that. "And she's around somewhere. Probably hanging out with Aunt Nan."

After a thoughtful pause, Nigel carefully inquired, "Andy, are you calling Lady Nan Whitmore, Aunt Nan?"

"Ayup. That's the one. It's been a strange set of days, Nigel."

Nigel stepped back, without quite leaving Andy's embrace and really looked at her. His smile was somber, but he reached forward and brushed some ragged hair out of her eyes. "You need a cut and style. Emily will be arriving with Serena in tow at some point. I'll have them find you. Call your friends," he ordered gently.

The way he said it was so familiar, a subtle command filtered in amused affection, that the only answer she could give was, "Okay."

"I feel it's only fair to warn you, Andy. You do know what's going to happen? As soon as you call and you tell Lily what you've been doing..." Connie asked.

Andy stared blankly at her cousin for half a beat and then groaned.

"Oh yeah. She's gonna demand at least a few retries." He patted her on the back, "Don't worry. I don't think you'll have to worry about mountain climbing. And I'll be right there, safely on the ground, while you fall umpteen zillion feet from a plane in the air. Cheering you on. It'll be great."

Andy looked briefly hopeful. "You think she'd settle for para-sailing? I think if I ask real nicely, Sam might let me near the water again." Not that she needed Sam's permission, but her friend had been distraught.

Connie just grinned and Nigel thought that might be a good time to make his exit.

The calls to Lily and Doug had gone better than Andy had any right to expect, but they were remarkably forgiving and also apparently totally devious. Her friends hadn't waited for her call to find out what was happening. They'd been in contact with her parents, but respectful of her distance. So, every story, they heard maybe third or fourth hand, but they always knew she was alive. At least until she stopped calling her parents. They then, just assumed she was, until they heard otherwise. After all, they knew her mom and dad...

She was fatigued though, by the end of the conversation and by all the activity around her. Among other things. Her body still ached, even with the pain relievers she'd taken and those had been a while back. While intending to go get ready for a mid-afternoon session of SWAG, she'd fallen into one of those deep snoozes on the couch. She'd turned onto her hip, curling her legs up, and facing toward the back of the sofa. Someone, not her, had put a blanket over her.

She stirred when she felt the pressure of someone sitting beside her, at the curve of her knees and very lightly. She recognized the perfume, but before she could push herself awake, she felt a hand, cool and slim at her shoulder. Weirdly comforting. "Laying about when everyone else is busy, I see. Typical." The words were snapped out, crisp, British.

"Em." Andy's reply was draggier than she meant it to be. She turned, making it a half stretch, like a cat's.

"And I see you've managed to look worse than ever. What happened to makeup?" Emily's gaze traveled over Andy in quick evaluation, her expression stern.

"I missed you too, Em. What time is it?"

"According to Nigel, time for you to get up and going. Though, if you want to continue laying about like a log, you're certainly welcome to. However, if you want to do something with that hair..."

"I'm up. I'm up." Andy began propping herself up from the prone position, and it folded her forward toward the slim red-head. "I'm going to hug you now. Brace yourself."

"If you must." Emily rolled her eyes. She endured for a moment before she shrugged out of the brunette's grip. "Now, tell me. What the bloody hell is the matter with you, disappearing like that? Miranda has been on a tear for months, and of course it's because of you. When's the last time you took your medication, you sodding bint?"

Andy blinked and frowned slightly. Generally insulting was Emily's natural disposition, but the more personal Emily's insults became, the more worried she truly was. It was Emily's way of telling her that she really looked like hell, despite everything. They had become good friends after Andy left Runway. Giving her the clothes from Paris had done wonders for bridging the gap between their differences, after Emily tore her a new one for abandoning Miranda the way she did.

Andy would have told Emily much sooner as she had known that Emily could be trusted to keep her mouth shut, even from Miranda, and that she wouldn't immediately go into denial or turn overly solicitous, and would accept her decisions as she made them; like Aunt Dorene. However, Emily had already followed Nigel across the pond and Andy had not wanted to bother her with the worry. It was difficult enough to deal with her parents.

She loved her parents, but every time they spoke, they immediately tried to convince her to return and try new methods to fight her illness.

"Technically, this morning."

The look of irritation zinged her way was pure Emily, which caused Andy to smile despite herself. "I suppose that's technically, as in, 'I looked at them in passing,'" the redhead sneered. Then she gently patted Andy's shoulder, "Get up you. Serena hasn't got all day."

Emily stood up from the couch and extended a hand, which Andy took. She pulled with a subtle strength, then locked Andy's arm with hers. Ostensibly to keep her from running away, but mostly to keep her close. "I don't suppose you have proper clothes?"

"Went shopping recently with someone who has an eye, so yes. I do."

"And this someone has a name?"

"Well, if you're digging, her name is Samantha and she's Tom's daughter."

"Ah, yes. The blonde. I met her. She has acceptable taste." Which meant, that she found Sam daring enough to be trusted to keep Andy's look interesting.

Andy smiled in memory of a different kind of taste, "Oh yeah. She does. And a great sense of humor too. You'll like her as you get to know her." She glanced about, "I see the crowd has thinned."

"They're all at the pool, waiting in line for their bloodwork, or scurrying back to SWAG, which, by the way I heard you planned on attending."

"I will be decently attired and shall not embarrass you."

"Thank. You."

They arrived in one of the rooms that had been transitioned into a Runway space. Serena was there, already ready. She welcomed Andy with a warm smile and air-kisses and then motioned her to a chair by a vanity with a mirror. "We shall set this ragamuffin hair right. Now sit." She turned to Emily, "And you go, Emily. I have her from here and you have much to do. I shall meet you at the SWAG later."

"She can catch a ride with me and the others." Andy turned her attention to Serena, "I mean, if that's okay."

"It's is perfection. I accept. I must ask you, Andy, as surely you will know. This Aunt Dorene. They say she is seven feet tall and can crush a man's skull. Is this true?"

Andy flashed a grin in the mirror at Emily, who offered the tiniest smile back before turning and leaving the room. "No. She's not seven feet tall. But I did see her destroy a melon with her fist once."

\- TDWP -


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 10

It didn't take long for Andy to realize that Serena knew, either by osmosis or because Emily, who was stalwart and closed mouthed under every unusual circumstance, also trusted the Brazilian implicitly. They were close, but Andy didn't know quite how close, except that they were definitely good friends and it was entirely likely that Serena knew that Emily was a vampire.

Either way, as the statuesque beauty reshaped Andy's hair to something more flattering, the Brazilian made subtle queries regarding Andy's state of being, her family, her friends, her outlook on life, and what she'd been doing for the last few months. By the time they were done, Andy was reminded that Serena was a goddess at transforming a person's appearance and even if the artist hadn't known before, she certainly did now.

"You're a magic worker, you know?" Andy said.

Serena nodded, "Yes, I am." And something in the way she said that had Andy second glancing.

"Wait. Are you saying..."

"I am not saying anything, but let us say that if one did... dabble in such things, how better to have reason to carry all one needs," Serena pointed at one of her bags and Andy had to agree.

"Ace disguise," she said respectfully. "I can see it. Thank you."

Serena patted her shoulder. "Go, get ready. I shall meet you..."

"Downstairs, library. We're all meeting there and Cole is driving a limo."

\- TDWP -

After a while, in the limo and when they were well on their way and in the middle of a completely different discussion, Dorene exclaimed, "What? Do I have something in my teeth? On my blouse?" She actually looked down at herself, trying to figure out what it was that Serena was looking at.

The Brazilian's laugh was warm and a little impish, even as Andy elbowed her softly in the side. "I am sorry. It is just you are not as tall as I expected."

"As tall as... Andy, what have you been telling this girl?"

"Don't look at me. This is entirely your fault." Andy pointed at her aunt with some amusement.

"My fault. What are you talking about?" Dorene exclaimed.

"Word of your power has spread through the Prestre and what is left of Tom's original Feryn," Serena added.

"My power..." Dorene blinked.

Nan suddenly started grinning. "Oh. Oh, I see." Then she patted Dorene's hand. "Don't worry about it. Your legend has simply increased from this morning's..." she glanced at Andy, not sure if she should mention, but then decided that the writer might as well know. "... altercation."

Andy sat up a little straighter, eyes wide. "Altercation..."

"Nothing to worry about. Just a little misunderstanding that was cleared up."

Nan contributed, "It worked out just fine, though William did have a little clean up afterward."

Dorene's niece eyed her aunt suspiciously for a few seconds more and then gave it up in the face of her Aunt's suddenly casual aplomb. This was not necessarily an unusual thing. One particular time stood out for Andy, as she remembered one way Dorene had cleared up a misunderstanding. Uncle Mitchell's trophy wife filed for an uncontested divorce and moved out of the country. Since the woman had been trying to get her hooks into Andy's cousin Alexander, who was going to inherit a very well off family business, and underage at the time, and since it was a ten-year-old Andy who'd brought the misunderstanding to Dorene's attention, the writer didn't feel the least bit sorry for her. It was possible Andy could have dug around earlier and found the truth regarding this latest escapade, but by the time she'd heard about Dorene from Nigel, the rumors had been flying fast and furious. The truth was long gone and held only in the eyes of two women who weren't talking.

But they were, however, holding hands.

"Fine," Andy said, most carefully not looking down at now twined fingers. She wasn't even sure that they were aware they were doing it.

Connie, who was just as aware of the hand holding as Andy, said, a little more brightly than needed, "So. Serena. How long have you and that red-headed dish been together?"

The artist blinked, then smiled. "Ah, you speak of Emily. We have been friends a very long time."

"I mean..."

"She knows what you mean," Andy said, and she looked at Serena. "Really? I mean, I thought..."

"She had … other interests." Serena cocked a brow, as if indicating that Andy should know right well what interests she was hinting at.

Andy's expression was utterly rueful. She, after all, was still wincing from her earlier epiphanies, even if they were perhaps not entirely correct in premise. "Oh. Right. Hard to compete with that." She looked briefly at Nan and offered a quicksilver smile, to let her know that she did, in fact, remember their conversation, but that she hadn't left the notion completely behind her. And, she felt better, in a strange way, because apparently, she wasn't the only one who had the thought, nor seen the consequences. She smiled companionably at Serena.

"Indeed. And then there is a matter of family, as mine would not approve." Again there was that cocked brow. Andy immediately got the code and understood the implications, vaguely. Apparently sorcerers, or at least Serena's family, didn't let themselves have vampire girlfriends or boyfriends. She briefly wondered if this were a blood thing or just a policy thing.

Connie meanwhile, completely misunderstanding, said, "Oh. They still stuck in the fifties?"

Serena's smile was, thankfully, more amused than anything. "One might say that. I come from a very... traditional family." Ah. Policy then and apparently very strict.

"And are you, very traditional?" Nan asked, curious.

"One can not work at Runway and stay too terribly so. My co-workers, however, would call it a leaning toward classic. I am pleased with how things are and I am free to pursue other options as I will."

Correction, moderately strict; or maybe just coming from a direction Andy didn't understand. She made a mental note to ask Serena if she ever had the chance.

Serena's expression turned a bit heated, and impish again, "And I often will."

Even as they all laughed, Nan said, "Well, in your case, I would say, one can hardly go wrong with classic."

\- TDWP -

SWAG was held in one of those massive convention centers, where thousands of people could co-mingle and attend the various events that were being held. In a way, this made Serena's presence a godsend, because she knew where to go. She helped them wend their way between people dressed to the nines, dressed to gaga, dressed in almost nothing and then the regular folk, tourists, who were gawking and and bringing every day interest to the big showings. They walked "forever" past panel rooms, design shows, rooms that were "in progress," getting ready for the next catwalk or demo, and the active catwalks, that were running simultaneously. And then there were the parties, some of which had libations, some of which did not, all of which had people coming in and out in excited droves. The paparazzi and legitimate press were flocking like confused birds, zipping in and out, trying to find their best angles, the most exciting moment, the stars.

"It's craziness!" Connie exclaimed. "Oh, Lily is gonna kill you for not calling her sooner."

"How was I to know?" Andy shared the awe. "Miranda is either hating this or..."

"... absolutely loving it," Nan said, equally amazed. "This is fantastic. If it weren't for the fact we're actually trying to find her, I'd be willing just to get lost here for awhile."

Andy let one of her brows rise, "Are you telling me you don't have some .. way of just finding her by … I dunno..."

Nan flicked a grin, "Hard to be subtle in a crowd, isn't it? Yes, of course, I could find her. As could Connie, but what's the fun in that? It's much more fun to watch Connie watch Serena pacing like a gazelle."

Dorene, who while not holding Nan's hand any more, had also not strayed very far, grinned. "I'd almost feel sorry for him, because she's going to shoot him down at some point, but...some people have to learn on their own."

"Ah. You caught that, did you?" Andy asked. "I figured Connie was missing the message."

"None so blind as those caught up in looking at other people's goods," Dorene's grin widened. "Even if they are unavailable."

"Maybe especially." Andy quipped, and then saw Serena swerve into one of the rooms. "Ah, there she goes." The artist disappeared into a large semi-darkened room. It was still open, with people flowing in and out, so it was likely the show hadn't started yet. The real question was whether there were good seats left or whether they'd have to stand. Miranda, of course, was right at the front, looking like royalty, and able to see the full glamorous procession. She was seated by a few luminaries, also worthy of their location. A few of her minions, the assistants, what was left of the art department, and sundry others, were seated directly behind her. And the rest were either scoping out other shows or parts of the SWAG, while others were scattered through the room, watching this one.

They were fortunate. Seating had been saved. "There you are!" Emily's hiss wasn't exactly loud, but somehow managed to cut across the noise anyway. She stood beside a short, empty row of seats, where she'd apparently been standing guard, just for them. As they flowed past, Connie first, followed by Dorene, then Nan, then Andy, the redhead scoped out the writer, nodding once. It was such a Miranda thing that the brunette was slightly taken aback by the mannerism. Yet, at the same time, it fit Emily, like a glove.

She was tempted to make small talk, to get a sense of how things were going, when the music started and the lights dimmed. They all sat and Andy found herself distinctly aware, with a persistent, fundamental sense of surprise, of two persons: Emily and Miranda. As her eyes could not seem to choose which to look at, and it was making her slightly dizzy to try, especially in the darkened setting, she settled on actually watching the show.

It became quickly apparent why Miranda chose to grace this particular design team's runway. It was entertaining, modern and streamlined, but with a sense of playfulness that kept the outfits from being repetitious. A model's job was to wear the clothes and not judge them, but there was a confidence and energy to their walk that suggested that they enjoyed what they were wearing and knew they looked good. It was eye candy, and palatable,

Despite her intention to just watch the show, Andy's attention did drift down to glance at Miranda. She stood out, as usual, snowy locks practically shining in the dim light, but it was the set of her body, confident and casual. Relaxed. Miranda was, at the very least, pleased with what she was seeing, which oddly filled a happy space in Andy, because this meant that, for the editor, whatever the other details may be, the trip had been worth something.

Once again, Andy was reminded that she liked seeing the editor happy, or at least moderately content, and a part of her wished she was down there, perhaps not by her, but across from her, to see what the shine in her eyes might be like. Either way, the writer relaxed and sat back, unaware of how graceful she looked in the forest green knee-length sheath, with her legs crossed and her expression soft.

"You might pass in that," Emily said quietly, not needing to point as they both saw the next model strolling the catwalk in a cherry red off the shoulder dress. From her that was extravagant praise, as the redhead was still not wont to praise Andy on what she wore; or at least, not too often.

"I couldn't afford... wait. Damn it. Yes I can. Crap."

"If you don't want your money, I'll take it."

Emily meant it as a joke and a jibe, but Andy's very serious, "Okay," caused a flinch; then, an unexpected hand grab. Andy continued, on a mental track, voice growing softer with each word, "But I'll need to stash some for a living expense and then away for the watchdogs, Mom and Dad, Lily, Doug, Dorene, Connie... Do you think Miranda would take some? Maybe a scholarship for the girls. I should do one for the cousins, nieces and nephews... I need to revise..."

"Hush, I don't need your money. You're disturbing the show," Emily said coolly. But she did not let go of Andy's hand, and gripped it tightly, just not bruisingly so.

"Who said anything about need," Andy whispered. "Might as well claim me as your sugar mama while you can." This time the comment was much more light hearted, much more Andy.

"I will paddle you in front of everyone here, if you don't zip it." Emily warned.

"Like she wouldn't take that dare," Connie almost whispered, leaning over to say it so they could see him.

"True," Dorene hummed. Nan just looked amused, but her attention was still, technically on the show.

"Not helping," Andy glared and blushed.

"I'd beg to disagree, but I see my work is done." Connie offered a toothy grin and sat back.

\- TDWP -

It should not have come as a surprise that, after Miranda disappeared into the back of the runway area, where the clothes were now on the rack and at the invite of the designers, who were waiting for a verdict from the queen of fashion, that they too were summoned; though by Miranda's assistant.

Andy felt a heady case of nerves descend, as it had been some time since she'd seen the fashion maven work the crowds and even now, the memory alone, left her feeling the editor's amazing charm and eloquence. Yet, as she followed behind the others, and passed behind the curtain separating stage and back, she also experienced a sense of familiarity. "Didn't expect to get to see all this again. You'd think it would be easier."

Of course, Emily had let go of her hand sometime ago, just before the designers had finished their bows. They had to join the applause after all. The Brit, however, had essentially walked with the writer. "If it were always easy, it wouldn't be fashion."

"At least we don't have to take the notes." Andy watched the assistant who summoned them rush off, sent on yet another errand, just as Nan reached Miranda and they air kissed.

"You know, maybe I..."

Her elbow was taken firmly, "I don't think so." Emily turned a blazing blue gaze on her errant friend, "I keep hearing about amazing adventures you've had. Where, pray tell, is that woman?"

"I think she may be hiding behind those skirts," Andy pointed.

Emily sniffed, "Well, they are wide enough..."

"Hey! But the truth is, it took me a long time to feel brave around Miranda and it comes and goes."

"Well, put on your brave face, we don't want weakness in front of the designers. They can smell it, you know."

Andy choked back a laugh, but the words were enough to secure a winning smile. And then it was she, who was kissing air against the editor's cheek, and greeting her with a soft, "Hi, Miranda."

The editor murmured, "Andrea," and it was enough to lift the younger woman's skin in sensual prickles. Miranda drew back and peered sternly at the writer, before letting her glance do its usual once over. The nod was a win, but it was tempered by the sense that Andy knew that Miranda wanted to say something, but simply wasn't. Yet.

Instead, the editor turned from Andy, while at the same time, drawing her to her side, with one hand. She then greeted Emily, same air kisses, but now the redhead was to her other side.

While neither of the women were actually behind Miranda, Andy felt an incredible sense of deja vu; a feeling which harked back to a certain party, where she and Emily had held station while the editor did the meet and greet. And then, it was as if the world sped up, or rather, things happened so quickly, it left Andy a touch breathless.

One moment they were talking with the designers, the next they were running, not literally, a gauntlet of parties and watching another runway event. This time, she and Emily sat directly behind the editor, watching the show from second tier seats. It should have, by all rights, made Andy more uncomfortable, but it had the opposite effect.

She really enjoyed watching Miranda's responses, the tells that were in her facial expression, the simple finger wave that let the nearest earnest assistant know to follow up, the interaction with fellow souls who, like her, knew and enjoyed fine clothes, fine design, fine everything. It was also fun to try and guess which ones would prick the editor's interest, and realize she still had that sense, that it hadn't gone away just because Andy had left.

Since she wasn't in Miranda's employ, she felt somewhat okay with noting the ones that caught her eye to Emily, both the good and bad. They didn't shred anything, but just short blips of conversation on what she thought worked and what so didn't. Except for one case. "That one's gonna show up on fashion police for sure," she commented in a whisper, about a grey pant suit. It had diamonds cut in various sizes through the back and sides of the jacket and then down the side of the slacks. The double breasted diamond buttons on the jacket helped a little, but the huge ivory cowl blouse was overblown and too much for the outfit. And then there were the shoes, platforms, grey like the suit, but furry. All the way down.

"I mean, I can see where they were headed, by following the theme, but too much. Way too much. Should have picked either or. Either the slacks. Or the jacket. If they kept the slacks, keep the cowl, cut the sleeves, drop some of that extra footage and go for some huge bangles. That one sun with a ruby stone piece we saw about an hour ago would compliment, I think. If they keep the jacket, classic white silk blouse, simple jewelry, but with the diamond theme, any dark pant, and god help me if I see another pair of furry platform shoes on a woman that tall. Makes 'em look like mutant horses ..."

Andy missed the flash of amusement that sparked on Miranda's face before returning to its normal event neutral-slash-pleasant. Emily, however, didn't bother to hide hers. "Unfortunately that's a current fashion affliction. If it can be done, do it to excess," commented Emily.

"I thought you liked excess."

Emily's glance at Andy was sly. "There is a time and place for everything." The way she said it, the slide of it, ran a blush right up Andy's spine to her face.

Andy offered a compressed smile, aware that her color was high. "Okay, that was a good one. And if you're hitting the mark that easy, I think it may be time for me to head home."

Emily, who had been staying alert to changes in Andy's demeanor, realized that she was probably serious. After all, she'd found her napping on the couch when pretty much the whole mansion was in an uptick of activity. "I'll arrange it."

"I have Cole's number to call ..."

Emily put her hand on Andy's thigh, offering a piercing look.

"Fine," Andy grumbled, just a little.

\- TDWP -

It should have been more uncomfortable, Andy thought, as the limo, one not driven by Cole, but by another Prestre bodyguard / driver, whisked them away from the SWAG. "Them" consisted of herself, Emily, an assistant, Nan and Dorene, and Miranda. In some ways, Andy should have been clawing her way out of the car, but once again, when faced with the editor's close proximity, Andy was … comforted.

She couldn't have begun to say why, except that she found Miranda's rapid-fire notations and instructions, which bounced around the otherwise quiet cab, relaxing. And her fierce, ever present, "presence," which should have caused her to feel overwhelmed (and certainly did when she was an assistant) instead caused her to bask; like Miranda was the sun and she a flower.

Weird.

She supposed since she wasn't the one who had to do the writing, she could just listen.

She certainly wasn't doing much looking, as her eyes were closed and she was leaning back, long legs comfortably extended and shoes off; that alone sold her on limo-rides home. She felt comfortable enough and that probably should have warned her on some level to not to interject, not for Miranda, but for the assistant. Yet she did it anyway. "That was in section F panel room D. They'll only be there half day tomorrow, because the designer is heading home to Arizona. It's the centerpiece of the collection, so you can't miss it, but wow, all that white gold and turquoise. Stunning stuff."

"Stuff?" Miranda said slowly, dangerously.

Andy cocked an eye half open, and managed to swivel her attention to the editor without actually lifting her head from the back of the seat. "In this case, I refer to the entire substance of the creation, from metal to make. It's correct terminology and not entirely a shortcut."

Nan grinned, "Good save."

Which caused Andy to chuckle. "Well, I know by now not to use an all encompassing word around Miranda, without at least knowing what the hell I'm talking about." Then she grimaced. "Speaking of knowing what I'm talking about, Aunt Dorene, would you tap the nice driver on the shoulder and tell him to take the next available turn off to someplace with a restroom. I'm not picky."

As if Miranda had been waiting for just such an opening and needed the bare-boned excuse to make it sound as if she were chiding, "What is wrong with you?"

"Talk to Dr. Acheson about that, but the first doc I went to said, "Your blood's gone bad." Which, it was just infuriating, because what the heck does that mean? All those specialists couldn't tell me. I felt like one of those movie heroines where the ailment is mysterious, but you know it's not going to end well. The docs could only run me through a gauntlet, chemo and x-ray and whatever else they thought might work. Stopped feeling like myself and I thought, Andy, you got a choice..." The brunette exhaled and then laughed. "But that wasn't what you meant to find out, this time. Heh. Sorry. You were wondering at my audacity. Well, I tell you, Miranda, I think you are awesome, tasty, and better than a roller coaster ride for thrills, but I've had a few things put into perspective. Not that I ever have perspective where you're concerned."

Emily reached and took Andy's hand. "You're babbling."

"I really need that restroom."

"Soon."

"You're gonna have to be ready to get out of my way, Em. Don't want to trample over you."

"I'd hardly let you."

"I know," Andy said with a wealth of affection in her voice. She managed to push herself enough to slide on her shoes and grab her clutch.

The long vehicle slid to a stop at one of the ubiquitous side restaurants. As promised, Emily got out of Andy's way with an alacrity that only an enhanced being could manage. It had caused the brunette to send a flashing grin her way. "If I'm not back in five minutes head on back without me. I have Tom's address."

"Oh, that's not going to happen," Dorene said as she scooted out, her expression alarmed. Andy was already through the door. Her aunt ran to catch up.

"Should I call ..." the assistant started to offer, pulling out her phone.

Nan shook her head, started sliding out herself; there was no way she was letting either woman stay unprotected. "No. I'm sure it's nothing. Just organize your notes. Be right back."

Miranda got out of the other side. "Emily, get back in the limo and make sure Sandra stays here."

The assistant's eyes went wide, either because she couldn't believe Miranda was about to step into the middle class venue or because she actually used her name. However, she didn't stare, because Emily's glare was enough to turn a person into stone if they looked too hard. She decided to take Nan's advice and organize her notes.

Miranda understood, almost as soon as she entered the building, what Andy's scurrying away was really about. The tang of fresh blood was palpable and she suspected that Andrea's impulse to leave the car had more to do with preserving its innards than herself. Irritating. She didn't need any sign to find them tucked away in the modest restroom, which was, fortunately for them, roomy enough to accommodate.

Nan stood just inside the door, guarding them. "Bloody nose," she whispered, too quiet for human ears. "She felt it coming. Didn't want to alarm anyone."

"As if I'm not alarmed anyhow." Miranda grimaced at her friend.

"Dorene's in there holding Andy's nose," Nan explained.

"Standard first aid. I'm going in," Miranda said.

"Good luck. She may not let you help," Nan warned.

"Let me?" Miranda's brow arched.

Nan's chuckle was very dry.

Then Miranda opened the stall door. Andy was sitting on a chair, head canted slightly back, with Dorene at her side, doing exactly as Nan had described. They both looked over as she approached. "I was under the impression that one was supposed to lean forward to stop a bloody nose."

"You are, but for some reason, it always seems to make them worse for some of us. It's a family trait." Dorene answered for Andy. "Don't worry though, she's not in danger of swallowing."

"Move." Miranda ordered the moment she was standing next to the seated woman.

"Technique requires five minutes of hold," Dorene began.

"That was not a request."

"Miranda," Andy said nasally, "What are you gonna do, lick my nostril? It'll pass in just a minute."

"Move." Miranda, who was not in a mood for argument, added a push. The next thing Dorene knew, she was standing beside Nan, looking at Miranda's back. She was not confused, though she was a little dismayed until she really understood the other woman's body language. Miranda was concerned.

Andy, meanwhile, felt cool fingers pressing the soft tissues of her nose together. Miranda, who was willing to own that the smell of Andy's blood was very compelling and it was making her temper slightly short, kept her tone as modulated as she could. "I would appreciate it, if you wouldn't argue with me about everything."

"Argue. I haven't been... Yowtch." The pinch was a little sharp. "Fine."

"I won't be licking your nose, but I am a master of the blood. Observe."

It wasn't so much about observing, so much as, Andy felt a spread of warmth from where Miranda's fingertips touched, to inside her nose and down her throat. It was a matter of seconds, and then, no more nose bleed.

The squeezing stopped, and Miranda's fingertips glided from the top of Andy's nose, to just under and above her upper lip. Then swiped, brushing across with gentle efficiency. The blood disappeared on her fingertips. She tapped Andy's nose once, just because. Then she said, "Now, can we go?"

\- TDWP -


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 11

The rest of the limo ride was uneventful, thankfully. The crowd at the mansion had thinned out substantially, though there were still more people there than usual. However, the evening party was in play, only with much fewer humans in attendance and probably only those who knew the score or had reason to be there. The door opened for Miranda, who led the way, before she even set foot on the entranceway patio. She asked, "Is Paul here yet?"

"No, Matriarch."

"I will be in my rooms preparing for dinner. Andrea will be resting in her room, do not disturb her until a half hour before. The setting schedule will be posted by my assistant to William. See that it is followed to the letter. That's all."

"Yes, Matriarch."

"Andrea," Miranda said, as the younger woman passed, "Kindly do not wrinkle that dress. It is an acceptable look for you and you worked so hard to preserve it." The editor then walked away, without looking back at the gaping younger woman.

Andy might have griped at the high handed way with which Miranda essentially sent her to bed, but honestly, on the one hand annoyance and the other flattery. How could she stay mad at the woman for being herself? Not, she suspected, that she was seeing the entire picture. After all, she rarely spoke that way to her girls.

And, she noticed, she didn't speak that way to Em. Mostly.

Strange. Weird and strange.

She did not wrinkle the dress. She took it off, hung it up, divested herself of non-essentials and basically fell asleep, under the covers of her bed, mostly nude. She was gone almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Seconds later, it seemed, a knock at the door summoned her from her slumber. She rolled up, and out, ambled to the door and cracked it open. "It is now a half hour until dinner," William said. Andy blinked at him as if he'd spoken ancient Babylonian, then she'd shrugged, shut the door, started toward the bed again...

And stopped.

Right. Dinner. Wherein the plot thickened and Paul of the Tosri got a comeuppance. Possibly a permanent one.

She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that, except that she knew Tom well and Paul not at all. And that guy may have sent people to snatch her. Which caused her to nearly drown.

Okay, sympathy and empathy was over. Time to get presentable.

As there was no dress declared, Andy went casual. She was pretty sure that Miranda, Nan, and Emily would probably outshine anything she put together, and, honestly, this dinner was being held at home. And to her, home implied a certain leeway in how one approached the dinner table. But even as she dressed "casual," she realized she was choosing pressed slacks over jeans, and blouse over tee. So, really, not that casual. She was, however, entirely too tempted to wear sandals, just to balance it out. But she didn't. So she was in heels again, after a day of wearing them.

Not necessarily the worst thing, but apparently, she was going to go "armed" anyhow.

Hair fixed and makeup reapplied and she was ready for whatever throwdown happened.

She was also much too gratified to see that all three of the Sachs had apparently had the same thought. Dorene and Connie hadn't quite taken a seat either and they drifted toward Andy when she arrived. "How you doing squirt?" Dorene asked.

"Rested. Not quite recuperated. Still going back to SWAG tomorrow, because wow."

"No doubt." Connie said, "Got a call from Lils and Dougie. They're on their way. So let's see, today is-was Wednesday, so they get here tomorrow, they got all weekend. I think she'll forgive you."

Andy grinned. "Hah. She already has, I sent her some pics and a program. I don't doubt she's got an itinerary all laid out. And with free room and board..."

"And a lot of vampires…," Connie pointed out.

"Again, Hah. Like she hasn't dealt with artsy types before." She hand-waved in a faux genteel manner.

Connie knocked Andy's shoulder with his, not too roughly, but enough to get an arched brow from Dorene, which settled them both for about five seconds.

"Anyone know where and how we're seated?" Andy queried as she observed the table, which had been formed into a long U-shape rather than a straight long table; which reminded her of a medieval court set up, and which this might actually be. She didn't quite let her alarm show.

"We're all on the right of Tom. He'll take head."

"Really? I thought Miranda might."

"Nope. His show tonight. Mostly. When she goes back home, he'll be the one running the territory down here on behalf of Prestre."

"So he has to demonstrate he can keep it and deal with the fun and the shenanigans."

"Which, speaking of, Miranda was very specific about where you're sitting." Connie hooked his arm with hers and led her to a seat a few seats down on the right from the head of the table. He grinned and said, "This one is yours. And more power to you."

"Somehow I get the feeling this is non-traditional?"

"Oh, well, you might say." Connie tapped a seat beside Andy's. "This will be Nan's. And by her, Dorene. And then me. Also, non-traditional. Sam will be Tom's left. More traditional. Normally I would sit by her, but Tom wanted a little family blood between Dorene and our newest kin; something to smooth the way, so to speak. And though we share the same sign, I'm more than able to watch out for myself."

Andy cleared her throat at the implication of danger and chose to focus on other matters, "So I'll be sitting by..."

"Me, of course," Emily said as she strode in, joining their conversation. Andy couldn't help the perusal she gave her friend. She was like eye candy, glorious to behold. The folded blue satin dress was obviously made for her, causing both her hair and eyes to shine. The blue heels and the sapphires capped it off. "Miranda will take the right of Tom. Nigel to her right, Serena, then me."

"Em, you look fantastic," Andy gushed honestly.

"Edible," Connie offered enthusiastically.

Time was, Emily would have preened at the compliments, but she merely accepted them as her due. Or, rather, any rise in confidence had little to do with her clothing choices. The redhead came to stand by Andy, near the place where they would sit. Her gaze had taken in the brunette, but she offered no comment on appearance. At least, not verbally.

Andy, flushing a little, tried to regain traction on the original conversation, but she didn't look away from Emily. "Okay, I think I have the bigger picture now. But shouldn't Nan be..."

"Yes. But Miranda wants her to sit by Dorene. This is about..."

"Guarding your assets and showing the importance placed on the task," Dorene injected, sounding surprisingly comfortable with the idea. Or maybe she was simply fine with sitting by Nan. She gazed speculatively at Emily. "It also may be about displaying relationships, but that's a whole other level of checkers and I have other things I'd rather be thinking about."

Andy grinned. Perhaps Dorene wasn't as oblivious about the hand holding as she thought.

"This is about family and kinship," Emily corrected. "You are far more than assets to us." Her eyes fell on Andy, who was distracted by the entrance of William with one of his ubiquitous serving carts. Dorene, however, caught the glance.

Her reply was gentler than she might have intended. "I see. Thank you for clearing that up. It actually helps to know I won't be thrown out because I used the wrong silver."

"Well, maybe not you..." Emily drawled.

Andy might not have been looking, but she knew that tone of voice, and popped her hip at the Brit, who allowed the brief contact. "Shuddap. I got my learnin' from the experts. I'm good at forkin.'"

"That. Was. Horrible," Connie groaned.

"Thank you," grinned the writer. "Just be glad I won't have to ask what tine it is, during the meal."

"Stop. Please. You're killin' me."

"Can't. You're already dead, Connie. You're just gonna have to suffer through the cleaverness."

When all three of the others groaned, Andy smiled, "And, my work is done."

\- TDWP -

Andy didn't think there was a prohibition against sitting down, but as if there were a non-verbal agreement to wait, they all remained standing. Furthermore, as if to facilitate the conversational mood, William arrived and provided drinks. Nigel, of course, timed things perfectly and arrived just as the social lubrication was being served.

It wasn't much longer before Samantha and Nan also made an appearance. Andy peeled away toward the blonde, utterly unaware of the look that briefly flashed over Emily's face; before it was wiped away with a much more neutral and still expression.

The brunette smiled easily at her friend. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask. Your steady beau..."

Sam quietly replied, "Is safely out of state. He and I had a conversation when I told him about the arrival of a certain editor-in-chief. It seems he had places to go, things to do. Wisely so."

"Should I offer condolence?" Andy edged closer.

Sam shook her head. "Not yet. He's figuring out the best way to grovel, but we're both agreed that until certain things are resolved... a little space is something we both can handle."

Andy nodded and patted her friend's shoulder, "Well, if you need to bend an ear..."

"Thank you." Sam smiled warmly.

\- TDWP -

Andy eventually returned to Emily's side. They'd both done a little polite circulating as the small crowd thickened. Andy recognized a few of Tom's, 'friends,' whom she now realized were much more than that. Subtle shifts in body language alerted her as to when the Tosri arrived; a lot of it seemed to consist of watchful diligence on the part of the Prestre and alert surprise on the part of Paul's people and maybe a little contemplative bloodthirstiness in both directions. Though Paul's people extended that toward Andy and her Aunt Dorene and, to a lesser, but still significant, degree, Serena.

Andy could grasp some of the undercurrent; she'd been experiencing alert surprise for days now and that had her in states of contemplation often. One got used to it. The bloodthirsty bit, well, she wasn't sure who they were trying to intimidate. Sam had already told her that blood was not on the menu, no matter how exotic and tempting the blend of their presence might be.

That was one of the things she really liked about Sam. She was forthright with Andy and any question could be asked. So, Andy had a basic understanding that certain "pure" strains, provoked a kind of wistfulness and hunger in a vampire and that really, the word flavor might be wrong, but the Japanese Umami might come close. Sam had given her a word, but Andy couldn't make the supple tongue movements that made it trill right. Nor did she have the teeth for it. Suffice to say, the simpler reason was that magic was a very potent lure and an awesome taste for vampires.

It explained, in a basic sense, why a faction might be willing to risk the wrath of another to acquire potent sources.

As soon as the "new people" arrived, she felt a shift in Emily, who drew closer. And when a particularly tall and broad-shouldered Tosri had flashed teeth at Andy, she'd wrapped an arm around the brunette's waist. Andy would have thought it a strangely possessive gesture, except that she was fairly sure that Emily's interest did not diverge her way at all. Well, except now maybe as a snack.

Cubes of cheese indeed. Looking back on it, Andy was amazed that she hadn't figured it out sooner.

Still, as another vampire decided to "smile" at Andy, she felt herself drawing closer, by essentially backing up to Emily; who was surprisingly sturdy. "So, Em," she said conversationally, "What is it, exactly that you're doing these days?"

"Part of the art department, and senior editor, London Runway. Nigel, of course, editor-in-chief. Also, watching over you." The answer, which should have felt much less sexy than it did, was whispered right to her ear. Andy felt a shiver, very mild, but definitely reactive to Emily's tone and physical presence, slide through her.

"If I said I could watch over myself?" Andy queried.

"I'd find it entirely laughable. You are surrounded by people who are stronger, faster, and much more dangerous than you." Emily countered.

"That's half my life, Em." For a moment, Andy considered why she didn't include Emily in that number, though she should have. The woman who held her now was a far, far more dangerous person than the one whose leg had been broken by a taxi. Yet she also felt much more secure with her around, even more than when she'd been a fellow assistant and the barbs had been flowing fast and mostly furious around her. When she thought of Emily showing her teeth, her reaction was an unconscious baring of the neck, a warmth in the belly and her hand gripping the one that held her securely.

Andy was about to add more to her reply, when she felt Miranda. Not saw her, but felt her. For a moment, she thought her whole body might melt; which apparently was not the reaction most others were having. The majority, except for a very few, were bowing away from the direction of the open double doors. The quality of the keen she barely kept from escaping her lips was fundamentally different from the few that erupted from the weaker Prestre and Tosri, as an immediate ache of need coursed through her.

"Easy," Emily spoke softly, calmly, and reassuringly, "I have you."

Andy realized then that she could not possibly claim an indifference to her friend, as all her words did was add to her inner fireworks. Her hand, which had been a gentle grasp on the Brit's became iron tight and parts of her anatomy went on high alert. Her nipples felt as if they would puncture her bra, and the exposed parts of her body were distinctly flushed.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Aunt Dorene cuss quite virulently and then fall silent. Andy intuited, though really her mind wasn't on processing it, that Nan had soothed her. Much like Emily, whose hand, still in that tight clasp, made very slow, circular motions and she wasn't sure, but that she felt a feather-light press of lips at the column of her neck and a hint of sharpness, not pressing, but oddly comforting in a distracting way.

When she closed her eyes, because suddenly she needed to, Andy fully expected to see Miranda behind her eyelids, like usual. And certainly she felt the potency of her presence, and while Miranda was most certainly there, so was Emily, whom she visualized standing off to the side of the editrix with a heated glint in her eyes, so different from the icy possession of the white-haired fashion maven.

It was forever and just a few short moments before that incredible sensation eased in her mind, in her body. Even as the pressure dissipated, Andy still felt the pulsing of her blood and need, which had funneled south and pooled at her loins. She throbbed, and if they had been alone, she probably would have guided Emily's hand down to where she really wanted it.

As it was, the redhead did not let go, though Andy felt the absence of the touch of her lips very strongly. "Only a few moments more." The words held promise. When Andy opened her eyes and realized how certain beings were staring at her, and by extension Emily, she forced herself to breathe easy, to stretch into their contact like this was something they did all the time. The glares were hungry, just a shade off of angry; definitely a touch greedy.

Andy spotted Connie then, standing nonchalantly near his spot. His smile was grimmer than usual, but he did not appear bent or dismayed. He nodded to Andy, laid his hand over his heart very briefly, and she relaxed even further, reminded that they were family and in that alone, they outnumbered those who surrounded them.

"She's coming," Andy whispered.

Emily's cheek pressed closer to Andy, "Mm. Yes. You always could tell. I sometimes thought you could even predict what she was wearing some days."

"I could. I mean, I did. It's been awhile, Em. I'm out of practice."

Em's chuckle, surprisingly throaty, intimate, pulsed through her. It was on that note, that more people arrived.

Andy guessed that the male was Paul. He was taller than Tom, and bulkier. His eyes were like cold jade, his hair a dark brown and curly. His lips were thin with displeasure, but he hid it otherwise. He wore a dark suit, pinstriped, but no tie. The color of his suit matched the black that his companion wore. Her hand rested on his forearm, pale and manicured. She wore a trim knee length short sleeved dress, and heels which made her as tall as him. She glided beside him. The bottom half of her face was covered with a black, red silk-trimmed veil. Her long sunlight brightened blonde hair contrasted, falling in gentle waves down her shoulder, her back. Her eyes counted people, things, exits, even as she seemed to stroll with ease beside him.

That would be Terry, who, Andy thought, absolutely did not want to be there; but she was the trophy and Paul had brought her, intending to show off, to put the screw to Tom.

She wondered what the veil hid and Andy found her gaze narrowing at Paul, a sense of dislike on her tongue, in her head. She tried to guess what would lead an attractive woman, and it was apparent that Terry was beautiful, to hide her face. She might as well be wearing sunglasses and be telling people that she ran into a doorway.

Andy wished she could see what Emily's expression was like, to gauge whether her impression of the situation was close. After all, it could be a vampiric fashion statement and she could be reading the way the woman's eyes flitted around the room, totally incorrectly.

But it didn't change that this appearance worried Andy, on several levels.

Not that she had a chance to linger in it. Emily's touch shifted and stilled. She still held Andrea in the clench, but a part of them both straightened to attention out of habit.

The next people to arrive were Tom, who looked smashing even though he had dressed much more casually than Paul, and Miranda, who as usual, appeared glorious. As Connie would say, edible. For the first time, since Andy had been there, she felt an envy for Tom, because the editor's hand rested on his arm; much like Terry's had on Paul's. Though, both Tom and Miranda's expressions seemed very light, almost amused and pleasant, as if this were something that happened every day and people should be having a good time.

Right. Which really meant the knives would be coming out and some blood was getting drawn sometime in the near future, no matter what was on the menu.

\- TDWP -


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 12

At least the high back seats were comfortable, even if the tension coming from the other side of the "U" was thick enough to coat the air. The first course had been delivered and Andy was unselfconscious about applying herself to it, since it had been a long day and she was hungry. Emily, she was surprised to see, also ate a healthy portion. The redhead had merely cocked a brow, daring Andy to say something. But frankly, the brunette felt a little out of dares for the moment.

Nan, on her other side, ate with simple elegance and in surprising silence, given her normally social nature. She was watching everything with a sharply attentive gaze. Dorene ate with a grim determination, not exactly shoveling the food, but Andy wasn't entirely sure she was tasting it; which was a shame, because it was quite good. However, her aunt's gaze and assumptions had obviously traveled in a similar direction to Andy's, in regard to the woman at Paul's side.

Terry had not eaten anything at all. Her hand played with the handle of a knife, twisting it back and forth between index finger and thumb. She did not appear to be looking at anything or anyone in particular at the moment, but now and then her gaze would pass near Tom and she'd flinch.

Paul, meanwhile, was apparently choosing to act cool and had leaned back in his chair, with a relaxed flair. He was technically smiling, and conversing pleasantly with Sam, but his eyes were flint hard.

It wasn't all doom and gloom. Small conversations were happening between neighboring diners, which provided a murmuring background.

By the time the next course was served, the edge of Andy's appetite had been taken off and she slowed down; enough to allow her to feel more like talking herself, but she couldn't think of anything useful to say.

Emily leaned toward her, "Don't worry so much."

"I am trying, but Emily, this is way, way..." She left the thought unfinished, knowing that her friend would understand.

"Nonsense. You've seen this sort of thing before."

"Yeah, but they were wielding sewing needles and fashion handbooks. This is kind of different, don't you think ..."

Nan delicately covered a cough of a laugh with her napkin and, Dorene, who apparently had also overheard set her forkful of food down.

"I thought it was Jimmy Choo Heels and Handbags," Serena quipped, leaning forward to toast Andy with a lift of her wineglass.

The writer laughed and lifted her own glass, joining that unspoken toast of Runway battle survivors.

After that, the conversation eased, at least around Andy and she relaxed enough to let go of the slow butterflies that had been building. It was pleasant and engaging enough that it took her a moment to register that some voices had started to rise. She had paused mid-statement, a little puzzled about the direction and then she realized that it was coming from both "their" side and the other.

The words being spoken, however, had drifted past English into something quite other. It was also apparent that the words being spoken might have sounded genteel, but weren't. These were the younger vampires, the ones sitting down at the farther end of the table. It started to escalate, and then the sound of a hand smacking the table, like a gunshot, echoed through the room. "That's enough, children!" Dorene snapped out. "Tone it down and speak in English. You're being rude at the table."

The Tosri side blinked and were taken aback, while the Prestre side immediately began to re-comport themselves with mild and mostly mumbled apologies, of "Sorry, Aunt Dorene. Apologies, Aunt Dorene. Yes, Aunt Dorene."

Connie and Andy worked very hard to stifle chuckles, both of them looking down at their plate for a good minute until they could also behave themselves. This was not an unfamiliar scene for them. It was just the location that was so unusual.

As no one from the top said anything, things settled down for awhile and dinner continued relatively peacefully.

Andy, curious about how Miranda was responding to all this, looked her way. The editor had a slight smile on her lips, though her gaze was just as sharp as ever. Before the brunette could get lost in watching Miranda, however, there was another commotion.

"Why do you stare at me, human?" Paul sneered at Dorene, who had indeed been staring a hole in the middle of his head for the last several minutes.

"What did you do to her, Paul?" Dorene asked into the suddenly dead silent hall. Andy gasped, but somehow wasn't surprised. It was a question that was burning in the back of her mind too. One of the Sachs was going to ask it, eventually.

"It's not your concern." His eyes flicked over her, dismissing her as unimportant.

"Are you very sure about that?" Dorene set her napkin in the middle of her plate.

Connie murmured, "Here we go. He's gonna rile her."

Andy sat back, leaned and looked past Nan and stage whispered, "Gonna?"

"Human, you had best remember your place. Here you are nothing, but food." Pau's demeanor sharpened dangerously, but his aspect somehow still remained cool.

Dorene put both hands on the table, letting one settle on the cutlery. "Regardless of what you think of me and my supposed status, I'm afraid this isn't something I can let pass. This is a woman thing and there are some moments that call for intervention. I suggest you moderate your tone and answer the question."

For once a form of heat seemed to enter his eyes. "You want to know! Fine. This is a vampire matter, human. It outweighs your petty little morals." His hand flicked out and before anyone could even really gasp or react or be horrified, yanked the cover off of Terry's face. The woman's hands flew to her mouth, but not before the bruises and the gaping spaces where teeth, all of them, used to be, were revealed to those who happened to be watching this drama; which happened to be almost everyone at the table. It was a horrifying revelation, one that affected not only the Prestres and the Sachs, but even the Tosri; some of whom howled as if this was a wound of their own.

One did not break teeth, except for the worst of the worst. Teeth, for a vampire, was their gift and life, it was part of their sexuality, part of their strength. A vampire might chip their fangs and they would heal, but to have them pulled... it was a desecration.

Paul, meanwhile, was justifying. "She was given to me, has refused to learn her place, and I am the one who she must obey. As she will not drink what is offered to her, she will take my blood or starve."

Tom jerked forward, a growl on his lips and a howl of pain in his heart, but strong hands held him down on either side.

"Well, now we can see she's been making the right choice," Dorene spat out, as angry as Andy had ever seen her. They might have had their conflicts with vampires, but it was always about, "what was right," with the professor.

"Do you know who I am?" Paul growled.

Dorene lifted the knife resting next to her plate and twirled it between her fingers, giving him a menacing stare, "I don't care if you're Jesus Christ reincarnated in Mahatma Ghandi's body practicing Buddhism, you hurt her again, and I'll take this butterknife and turn you into a handless eunuch."

Paul stood up from his chair with a roar, kicking it back. "You dare!"

Dorene was on her feet too then, "Want to try me, little man? Think you're so tough? Think I can't move as fast as you?"

She wasn't alone, both Andy and Connie had stood up just as abruptly. It wasn't even a matter of having her back. They'd literally stood at the same time, as if a wire had pulled them all up at once.

"Wait," Andy snapped out, but not to stop the fight. She'd gained some benefits of knowing the code from her research at the library. "I say this as Asclepius. Terry, the Sachs offer you sanctuary, refuge. We offer blood. Drink of us and be free."

Andy picked up an empty glass, one that might have been used for water.

"I need a knife. A sharper one than this." She pointed at the flatware that was currently available. Then as if memory struck, she turned, stepped away from her place at the table and paced to the guard that Tom had assigned to her. She slipped her hand inside his coat, pulling a switchblade out of an inner pocket. Despite the formal wear, she knew he had it on him. He'd once told her that he never left his rooms without it, as a reminder of his old life. He did not stop her, but watched her with respect in his eyes.

She paced back to the table then, flipping the knife open with an expertise that surprised some people, but not one of the Sachs. Then, without a single flinch, she drew it down her palm and squeezed her hand over the glass. Her blood quickly poured. Then she handed the glass over to Nan, who cradling it like it was the chalice of legend, put it before Dorene.

Her aunt, still furious, glared at the glass and then she lifted her eyes and looked directly at Terry.

Paul was shouting, "What is this?"

But no one answered, because everyone was watching the three humans.

"Terry, the Sachs offer you sanctuary, refuge. We offer blood. Drink of us and be free." Dorene carried her own blade. She dropped the flatware and pulled out a holdout weapon. Then, flicking it open, and like Andy before her, the knife struck palm and blood was added to the glass.

Even as Dorene's blood was trickling, Connie was spitting out the same phrase. He didn't have to bother with a knife. He used a fingernail. And then, he added his essence to the mix.

Andy, though she was paying attention to the impromptu ceremony, saw that Paul was about to make a move. She lifted her bloody palm and pointed and said, "Don't you dare. We've made the call and she has the right to respond. And don't pretend not to know what I am and that I didn't have the right to do this."

He snarled at her, staring at her in disbelief, but he no longer looked as if he might jump the table at any moment.

"Who will carry the blood?" Connie ground out.

"I will." Serena stood then. "It is my right and my duty."

"We accept," Dorene said, her gaze returned to Paul again, daring him.

"Dorene?" Nan began quietly.

"What?" the younger woman replied.

Nan's expression was stern. "You will not fight with a wounded hand. I won't allow it."

"You won't..." Dorene's gaze flicked to Nan and then, her own expression gentled for just a moment and she thrust her hand forward.

The vampire's tongue laved the woman's palm in quick swipes, not lingering to seduce, though they both felt the potency of the moment.

"So," Emily said beside Andy, "Are you just going to stand there and bleed all over the table?"

"Bleed all over..." Andy looked at her hand and then blushed. She looked at Emily then and blushed even more. "Would you consider..."

"Oh. Just..." The Brit extended her hand. Then, after Andy accepted the unfinished invite, she brought the wound to her lips. She inhaled, shivering in a sudden anticipation. It was only with an iron will that she kept the gasp of pleasure from expressing when she tasted Andy. She felt the young woman's blood rush through her like a liquid heat, bold and warm and empowering. She finished healing the wound, in deliberately quick strokes. But oh, how she'd wanted to linger, because the blood had brought with it a potent knowing.

Andy, who was not unmoved by the experience, managed a choked whisper of thanks. Then, because things were not done yet, she started to turn her attention back to the events that were still happening. She caught her breath as she encountered Miranda's gaze, it was blue fire. "Oh," she whispered, and it took everything she had to force her attention to where it needed to be.

She wasn't alone in the dilemma.

Serena, in the meantime, had left her spot at the table, and lifted the glass with both hands. She paced to the center, between the "U" of the table and bowed first to Tom, and then to Miranda. "With your permission?"

Tom had not exactly settled, his permission was more of a furious growl. Miranda's, however, was softly articulate, even as she was holding her newest son of the blood to his seat, "You may proceed."

The statuesque blonde continued then, taking the cup to Terry.

Paul, who was still standing, started to flit forward, but he was suddenly grasped; not by any of Tom's people, but by Tosri. "Get your hands off of me," he demanded, but they grimly held him firm.

The glass was set safely on the table before the woman. Serena said, "The offering of the blood of Asclepius and sanctuary has been witnessed and accepted. It is up to you, if you will partake."

The woman, who still had a hand clasped to her broken mouth, stared down at the glass. Paul roared, "Don't you do it! You know how I will punish you!"

"Paul, shut your fat trap. You lost the right to say any damn thing as soon as you did that to her. Think her Daddy is gonna be any sort of happy with that, do you? I'll run a bet not," Dorene called out. She stepped away from the table, and then made her way to the center of the U. She didn't move any closer to the woman, but her voice did gentle. "You've got a place with us, Terry. No matter what. You don't have to listen to him and he won't have you again. We take care of our own and we won't sell you down the river for some political bullcrap. But it has to be your choice."

The woman's attention drew up, and she looked at Dorene for several seconds. Then, dropping her hand from her face, she took hold of the glass and lifted it to her lips. At first she sipped, a tasting, more than anything, and then, as if she couldn't help herself, she drank it down so quickly that some of the blood escaped down the side of her mouth. But that escape was temporary, as it faded almost immediately, into her skin.

She began to shiver, to rock in the chair in a near erotic motion, and to keen like a wounded thing. The glass dropped from her hand, completely empty, dry; as she'd licked away every drop. Her eyes rolled up.

It was then that both Sam and Miranda let Tom go. He was up and at Terry's chair in a blink of an eye. He lifted her shaking form in both arms.

"You can't have her! She's mine! She's mine!" Paul struggled to get to them, fury causing spittle to fly into the air.

Miranda stood then, and she waved the Tosri who held Paul away. He jerked then, intending to do damage, but was astonished when he found he could not move. She stepped in front of him, expression cool, beyond fearless. She looked almost bored. "I find I am disappointed with the quality of leadership of the Tosri in this area. Something must be done." She glanced out at the gathered group of vampires before returning her attention to Paul. "To do that, we must address you and your offenses. First, you took something that did not belong to you, but to my son. Of course, he was not my son at the time, so, I will waive punishment for that. However, you broke contract, not with me, fortunately for you, but with your allies, the Feryn, the people of who you claim friendship, by damaging the gift that they gave you. That, I'm afraid will be punished and your Tosri will suffer." She let a shrug grace her shoulder, "But, again, not by me. Then I discover that you attempted to take something of mine."

Miranda let her teeth show then, and her eyes went the color of ice and then blood. "I should not have to mention that this was very poor planning on your part. After all, you could have started a war. And you may be sure your Tosri would have been dust under my feet. Fortunately for you, however, your minions were ham-handed at best. They failed their mission, which means, that which is mine was returned to me. However. She. Was. Harmed."

He screamed as Miranda's hand, now clawed, scored his skin and dug into him over his heart. She let her hand rest there in a deceptive, but intensely painful grip. "Your foolishness continues as you come to my table and disrespect my kin, my family. And then, you outright threaten Dorene, whom I regard with great affection. I shouldn't have to tell you that she's made a name in my halls. It is vanity to be fooled by the assumption of weakness simply by virtue of her humanity. She could take you." Miranda let that sink in, taking a moment to let her glance skim along the gathered Tosri, before returning it to Paul. "I considered letting her. But I shant, because her hands should not be sullied by your blood; more, it would doom your Tosri, as she is also Asclepius. And you do understand what would happen if harm had come to her? Let me ask this question of your people." Miranda turned then, focusing on the gathered Tosri, this time with an even fiercer deliberation. She let a part of her will, her aspect flower again and felt them groan under just a hint of the weight of her power. "Do you understand?"

She didn't wait for an answer, it was already in play. She released them to it, ready to finish things now. "I would have been within rights to have the Tosri clan sundered in its entirety. However, since she was not harmed, the punishment shall fall on you and you alone. I'm sure Thomas would like the pleasure, but honestly, some things one should do for oneself."

She ripped Paul's heart out without further ado and crushed it in her hand. It sifted into dust, which she let drop out of her palm, as he screamed into the flame that caught him up. She glanced at the two Tosri who had held Paul and said, "I suggest you and yours prepare for what is inevitable. That's all."

Then, that business concluded, Miranda turned to Tom and the woman in his arms. "How is she?"

He looked at his sire with amazement in his eyes. "Her teeth..."

Miranda drew closer to them then, and cupped the woman's face. Terry leaned into the touch, responding to the call of the Prestre blood that was now hers. "Show me," Miranda commanded gently.

Terry's smile was warm, perfect and brightly white. Her teeth had grown back, fangs and all, an impossible thing. "A miracle," Miranda whispered.

When she turned to look over her shoulder at Andy, Dorene and Connie, she couldn't hide her own smile of amazement.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 13

The Tosri excused themselves under the watchful eye of the Prestre, filing out in a quiet, desperate hurry. The dust that was Paul was kicked deliberately more than once by those passing through, a final judgment. After all the lead up, it was a little anti-climatic. But then, a heart being pulled out of the chest might be quick, but it was still a violence. Yet, in some ways, given the way Miranda liked to make people swing in the breeze a bit before finishing them off at Runway, this did seem a touch different. And, given he was a vampire, he could have held on for days and years for any number of treatments that might be imagined.

Andy could imagine a few good ones that upset her stomach even contemplating them. On the other hand, he was a leader of a clan and they might have felt obliged to fight for him. Put him out of the way and then they would be busy rearranging their own lives for a while. Far too busy to mess with Miranda's Prestre while they got their feet under them. So, even if she was maybe a little angry and that was a true motivation, this was a chess move. Yeah, quick and dead. A little dirty... As another puff of dust went up as another Tosri walked through Paul, Andy was again reminded not to underestimate Miranda as the Matriarch.

Tom, meanwhile, with a weary and much changed Terry in his grasp, carried her, with Miranda's unspoken permission to Dorene; where he stood before the woman for a few wordless moments. When he could find his voice he said, "Dorene, I know that I am not worthy, because I let her go the first time. But I promise... I promise by whatever you will have me promise by, that I will take care of her, that I will ensure her happiness, that she will have a place at my table, a home for her rest, and the protection of our people."

"Terry? Is this acceptable to you? I have no qualms about getting on a plane tonight and taking you home with me. You have a place at the Sachs table." Behind her, Nan visibly flinched at the uncompromising quality of the words.

Andy leaned over, whispering to a near silence, "She'd take you with her. If you wanted to go. You know that right?"

Nan's white-knuckled fists loosed, her hands flattened in her lap, and she tilted her head at Andy in thanks. Not that the socialite could just let Dorene just go, if it came to it. She'd follow her, at least to try and convince her that they could have a... something... together. After all, she had a plane on call. But a forced relationship was also not the kind of relationship she wanted to have with the perspicacious and dangerous woman. Oh, Dorene made her blood boil, in a good way and she knew enough of the physicist to know she could trust what was between them.

But it was a hard thing to hear, that she might go away so easily, so bluntly said. And that was when Nan knew she could not do without this woman; at all.

The brunette, not really oblivious to the riled emotion in the socialite, nodded as if the matter was settled then and returned her attention to what was going on between Tom and her aunt.

Terry, who was also not exactly in a place of speech nodded her head and pressed against Tom. Dorene might have pushed for a verbal acknowledgment, but she could see the woman was bone tired. She might have been healed, but it had taken all her energy to become so.

"Terry ever decides to leave, she comes home to us. She ever does something you don't like and you raise a hand to her, I will take you down. I won't even think twice. I like you, Tom, because you were smart enough to take care of our Andy. She thinks of you like family, so that makes you a Sachs of the heart. But you flip, boy, and I will skin you alive or undead or whatever you consider yourself. That's something I swear. You do right by Terry, or else."

"I will. I will, Aunt Dorene."

"Okay then," Dorene nodded sternly. "Go take care of our girl."

He blinked at her and then, he was away, as fast as night. Only then did Dorene let out the tension she'd been holding. "Well, I think that might be it for me tonight." She nodded then at the Matriarch, who gave a slow nod back, "Miranda."

Then she turned and said, "Nan, I expect I'll want some company in a few. Interested?"

Nan scooted her chair back, stood with aplomb. The upset of the previous moment was not forgotten, but the fierce emotions it had brought up were erased and prioritized. She knew what she needed now. "You have to ask?"

"Well, doesn't do to assume." Dorene paced back around the table until she was standing by Nan. Then she offered her arm, which the other woman took. "Andy, go to bed at a reasonable hour. Connie, behave yourself. I'll see you both in the morning."

And with that, Dorene led Nan out of the dining space without another glance back.

\- TDWP -

"How is it, that I'm a full grown adult and she still gets to tell me to go to bed?" Andy's complaint was half-hearted but at the same time a touch plaintive. "Heck, she makes me feel like I ought to go right now, and technically speaking, I just woke up a little while ago ..."

Connie shook his head, leaned against the table and folded his arms, nearly pouting. "Tell me about it."

Emily looked between them in amusement. "You realize that you are both truly adults, yes? You do not have to actually follow her instructions to the letter."

Both Andy and Connie looked at the Brit like she'd lost her mind and said that she always thought haute couture was an alcoholic beverage.

"You don't understand, Em. It's a secret power. You won't know until she turns it on you and then...," Connie waggled his finger at the red-head. "... then you will truly understand the dilemma."

"It's like, if Miranda told you to go to bed at nine o'clock. You'd probably be thinking 'I am a free, fully capable adult. Why am I doing this?', but your ass would still be in bed at nine o'clock. Because she would know," Andy concluded, making the word 'know' extend spookily.

A passing Prestre, someone not involved in the conversation at all, said, "Tell me about it." They continued on their way without saying anything else but shaking their head in empathy. The point was made.

"Everyone from our generation on down, including her students, will do anything she asks, usually without question." Connie continued.

"Yeah, it's kinda like how the fashion world responds to Miranda," Andy added. "Someone actually accused Aunt Dorene of starting a cult once."

"We've all got parents and such and all that," Connie continued, "but after the grandparents, she's the undisputed Matriarch of the Sachs family. Weird thing is, she doesn't have any kids of her own."

"Preach," Andy said.

Emily rolled her eyes. "I can see that logic won't be applied here."

"It's family, Em. Of course, logic doesn't apply." Despite herself, Andy grinned, and she extended a hand. "She didn't give me an exact hour, though, and I don't feel like eating in here anymore, but..."

Andy was still a little freaked out that she'd just seen Miranda pull the heart out of a man. A part of her thought of all those times that someone had threatened that Miranda would kill her if some task didn't get done on time. How literal was that?

Okay, now she was just getting fanciful. Miranda was very adept at separating business from the personal, most days. Of course, this had been a bit of both, weighing strongly on the very personal side.

Andy could barely believe what she was justifying to herself, but at the same time, she didn't feel a thing about Paul's 'loss'. He did wrong and the local justice handled it; in this case, Miranda happened to be judge and executioner. Because, in one thing, Paul had been right. This had been a vampire matter. Her mind, and soul could adjust to the idea, since it was her choice to get involved with a vampire in the first place and she'd known, to a small degree, that the choice might lead to dangerous and unexpected corners. She simply hadn't expected Miranda to be in one of those corners. Maybe all of them.

She needed something lighter after all that.

"I could go for some dessert. Anyone else want to head to the pool and see what snacks they got out there?"

From behind her, they heard a cool, "I accept your invitation."

Andy felt a shiver run rampant along her spine and turned to see Miranda. Strangely, her grin didn't falter at all and it only widened when she felt Emily take her hand. "Awesome."

\- TDWP -

They split off, for a bit, heading to rooms to get ready for time at the pool. The sun might be fast on its way to setting, but it was still warm enough and would be warm enough long enough, for a dip if people wanted. And, things were definitely more casual in that particular setting, so Andy went with her usual beachwear; bikini, shorts, a shirt to cover if she needed it, sandals, which she didn't wear, but only brought along in case she needed them.

She met Sam at one of the tables, took a seat without worry about the need to ask. The blonde smiled and lifted her draft in Andy's direction. "Well played, tonight." Then, as a joke, she tapped her chest with her fist and flung out her hand with the peace sign. "Respect."

Andy, who'd grabbed something to drink on the way grinned and flopped her sandals carelessly by her chair and settled in. She lifted her libation in fellow-salute. "Not that I quite knew what I was doing. I just... I mean, I'd read a little bit, but nothing prepared me for..." She could not have begun to describe the sensation of Dorene's unintentional summons and the drive that had made her speak, made her spill blood in such a specific way, so she shifted focus a little. "... well, it had to be done."

Sam's eyes went dark. "Yes. It had to. Miranda has already contacted Terry's sire. It's going to be very ugly for the Tosri soon, and the grandsire. I have no wish for a bloodbath, but they should have guarded her more closely, even if Paul was their leader. And the grandsire's fault lay in arrogance, but even he should have known better than to sacrifice a true Childe on the altar of expediency. There are just some things..."

Sam closed her eyes, "I never imagined Paul doing that. Not in a million years, Andy. Her sire, Joshua, was devastated. Felt every one of the breaks, but couldn't get to her. Apparently, Paul had taken her out of the States to do his dirty work. By the time Joshua worked out everything that had happened, it was over and Paul had covered his tracks. You might expect a visit, as he was also grateful, but not any time soon. He's going to be very busy." She opened her eyes again, her gaze dark, and lifted her bottle to her mouth and drank. She said then, "The politics are going to be just hell for a while." In this case, Andy knew that politics was shorthand for what might possibly be a bloody war for ascension. She wondered, briefly, if Joshua had been Thomas' original sire, but then Sam offered a quickfire smile, "Makes me glad to be Prestre right now. Actually, I was glad about that beforehand, so..."

"So," Andy nodded, realizing that it didn't matter who it used to be. Miranda was in charge now, and that wasn't going to change. Though, really, she was going to have to talk to her about the whole possessive thing. Andy understood that Miranda considered her... hers. Because of her blood, and because of Tom.

But... if she was only a pawn, then, well, she might be the moth to the flame, but she'd force herself to fly away.

A flashback to the way Miranda's gaze nearly immolated her after Emily licked her palm, took her breath.

She wasn't sure, however, how much stake she should put into a look. After all, Miranda still hadn't actually said anything to her, except things along the line of quit bleeding and hang up your clothes. Not exactly romance fare, there.

Sam and she both took a swig of their drinks, a touch grimly and for different reasons, and spent a little time watching as the sun get a little lower. By the time they felt like talking again, Connie joined them, looking good in a pair of swimming trunks. He took a seat by Andy, and looped a friendly arm over her shoulder.

"Did I miss anything? Like a certain Brazilian …."

"No, she's not here yet. Though I think we'll know when she arrives."

"How so?"

Andy cocked a brow at him like he should know. Then he picked up the clue. "Oh. Right. Bathing suit, hot girl. People look."

Andy gave him the point and asked, "Word on when Lily and Doug are arriving?"

"Tomorrow morning. Lily didn't give a time, since she wants to meet us at the SWAG."

"Did you tell her how crazy it was there?"

"Yes. Yes. I did. But she said she'd post a text of where to be."

That's when it pinged for Andy. "Oh. She's bringing an exhibit then."

"Yep. Don't know how big of one, but apparently she got some space last minute. And she looped some assistants into coming with her so she doesn't have to stay at it all day. Something about executive prerogative." Connie looked about and said, "I thought there were going to be snacks..."

"Awesome. Good for her." Andy said, as she took another sip. "Snacks are on the way. I talked to William..."

"Goody."

He said something else, but by that time Andy's attention had faded out from him and narrowed down sharply. One might call it a flux in the force, but her sense of Miranda rose and her attention was suddenly scanning outward. She pivoted slightly, so she was facing the mansion entrance and then she went very still, very breathless.

"What?" Connie asked, exasperated because Andy hadn't answered his last question, but also curious as to what caught her unwavering attention. His next words were a mix of adoration and admiration. "Wow. Smokin'"

"Breathe, Andy," Sam said in a worried tone.

The reminder was enough to start the reflex, but Andy still stared as Miranda exited the building enough to be visible and then paused.

One might technically call what Miranda wore a one-piece, but that would only be because of the thin carefully shaped cloth which drew down the center from the top to the bottom and connected both pieces. The cloth opened to reveal the skin around Miranda's navel, and only enhanced the awareness that her build, while very womanly, was also sleek and muscular. Dangerously sexy.

She brought a shirt, which she carried along with her towel, on one arm. She didn't need it.

Andy knew exactly when they were spotted. Even with the designer sunglasses Miranda wore, Andy always knew when the editor was looking at her. She half expected for the woman to tilt her head in an unspoken order to "come," but she didn't. She simply pivoted slightly, looking back through the door, as if waiting.

Miranda, Andy remembered, never waited on anyone; except her kids. And on her, one time, in Paris, which perhaps should have told her then... Her mind did not linger on that reminder, but she could remember dozens and dozens of times racing after the woman, who was remarkably swift on those heels, and boy, now she understood why, while hastening to meetings and designer studios and any number of places that needed going to for the purposes of Runway or just Miranda. On the other hand, Miranda never sent her anywhere overtly spooky and she also realized now that the stories she'd heard from others of just such happenings were not Halloween tales.

Then again, maybe Andy wasn't there long enough to experience that anyway. Maybe that was yet another rite of passage she missed.

While the writer's thoughts were running helter-skelter through the past, it was only a few moments, not even a half a minute before the reason for Miranda's pause appeared.

Emily stepped out into the open, and she also looked gorgeous. The redhead's suit was also, technically, a one piece, though instead of a strip down the middle, the swimsuit was cut in a very deep v from bosom to trunk, but aside from the top and trunk, there was no backside to the top, no side. It was just a scrap of material covering those important bits, somehow flush against firm, strong flesh.

Miranda extended an arm, the one not carrying things and the Brit allowed herself to be intercepted. She offered Miranda a warm, excited smile that was positively transforming. This time it was Andy who said, "Wow," in respectful awe and wonder.

And then, Miranda drew Emily in, closer as if she were going to hug her.

Andy, in the sort of epiphany that happens when pieces come together and the mind runs amok with it, found herself contemplating her earlier awareness of Miranda and how she waited for family. Emily, she suddenly grasped to her bones, was Miranda's family, just like Nan had told her; well beloved and wanted. She thought she had got that before, thought she understood it, but she had been so caught up in the fact that walking away had its own consequences; including Emily's ascension in Miranda's ranks that the notion had only filled the back spaces of her mind.

She wasn't prepared for the happy. She wasn't prepared for the way Miranda looked at Emily, not as snack or child or even vampire lover. Though, really, how would she know? Sam and Tom had been very discrete and certainly Sam had latched onto the whole Dad thing with some great amusement, but... Andy knew there was more. She just hadn't associated it with Emily or Miranda.

She watched, both awestruck and stricken, as Miranda drew the redhead in, not just for a hug, not just for a peck, but for a kiss that was tender, warm, and only fleeting for the sake of decency, not because there wasn't heat.

And oh, there was heat, which suddenly pulsed through Andy in a fierce quick fire of jealousy and need and want that pulled her in multiple directions at once. Even then, she didn't begrudge them. Her responses, she knew, had nothing to do with them; and everything.

She watched as they held to each other, briefly, affectionately. Long enough that Andy felt as if she were intruding by staring, so she turned away, and long enough that she felt the consequence of Paris rattle around in her head again, this time, not as mere regret; which was another good reason to change her directions.

She needed, in that instant, that moment, that very second, to be anywhere, but where she was. She needed space, to process, to think, to get adjusted to the idea of something that, really, was a good truth. It was a good thing.

So why the pain, the almost physical sensation, as if she'd had a limb go missing somewhere?

Andy wasn't even aware that she had moved or started not quite jogging, taking the sculpted concrete steps down to the beach two at a time. Or that she, fleet footed, strode down the beach, sand flying. Or that the sunset she seemed to be dashing to, made her appear to glow.

She didn't really get perspective, until she was in the water, waist deep, feeling the waves rise and fall against her in small, strangely reassuring slaps. She took deep breaths, needing them, until she felt she had enough to hold. Then, she let herself sink into the ocean, into the brine, let it wash over her for a short count, not as long as she wanted, but long enough to scour the tears away and make them useful.

When she came back up, slow, without gasping, it was to face the sun and the turning sky; another beautiful sunset. Another tally. She watched it drop gold onto the surface of the water, tried to capture the sparkle with a playful hand. Then, feeling more herself she turned to go back; thinking to meet everyone at the pool, planning out her explanation, which would be patently false, but she hoped they'd let slide.

When she saw them standing just a little into the water, enough to get the feet wet, and with herself a little surprised she hadn't noticed, she offered a smile that had been warmed by the sun, freshened by the ocean. She walked out, the water trailing her like a falling cloak, until she was fully revealed. Miranda, her expression grave, offered the towel she'd been holding. Andy stepped forward, choosing this time to accept what was offered and intending to take it with her hands, but the woman covered her shoulders with it, drawing her hands down so that it was firmly in place, before letting Andy go.

Emily, on her other side, without warning, looped her arm under Andy's, supporting, said, "Better now?"

Andy looked back at the sunset, still gold on the water to be captured. "Yeah. Better now."

\- TDWP -

They didn't speak on the way back, but the their pace was more of a casual meander, pleasant in itself, wandering sometimes into the water and out as the waves receded or pressed in their path, with Emily on one side and Miranda on the other. Once or twice, someone called out, "Hey Andy!" The brunette always waved back, whether they were famous or not. The lights that glowed to reveal paths to Tom's house brightened as the twilight started to settle in. As they drew towards the steps that would lead back to the pool, they arrived near the beach showers, which were there to wash the salt off.

"This is my stop, I think." She looked at Emily and then at Miranda. "Thank you. That was … enjoyable."

Miranda stepped forward then, and her fingertips brushed Andrea's hair back. "Be sure to rinse completely off." Then, her fingertips drifted down, sliding along Andy's cheek, to rest under her chin. She gazed into Andy's eyes, seeking something, but Andy didn't know what. Miranda nodded anyway and as if she weren't even really thinking of it, her thumb brushed against Andrea's lips, leaving a cool tingle when she finally let her hand drop. "We will see you at the table? Connie assured us he would save us some of the edibles."

"I... Yes. I'll be there."

"Good." Miranda looked then at the redhead and tilted her head, not a jerking motion, "Emily?"

The redhead cocked a brow at Andy, whether in warning or a dare, or … she wasn't sure how to interpret it, but then Emily took Miranda's hand. It was a motion that was completely natural, as if they'd done it often.

"See you up there," Andy said, already dropping the towel on a nearby bench, and twisting the knob to start the water. She only watched long enough to see them start on their way, and then stepped into the shower, letting it do its job.

\- TDWP -

Thorough only went so far as the bathing suit, but Andy felt desalted enough to be presentable and to not risk the pool should she choose to jump in there too. By the time she was finished with the shower, she'd found her equilibrium again and was pretty sure she wouldn't be making any more heady rushes into the water. She looked for the towel, but it was gone, replaced by a dry one, which she used. She was really beginning to wonder about William and how he managed to do the things he did, and how he seemed to be many places at once.

Ascending the well lit stairs, she arrived to find that the evening's party was now in full tilt, this time with Runway staff included happily and a bit dazedly into the star-studded mix. Plenty of people were in the pool as well as the surrounding edges. "Their table," the one with Sam, Serena, Connie, Emily and Miranda, was comfortably lit by a soft light under the same vast umbrella which had provided shade in the daylight. She spotted them easily.

The only place to sit, and this did actually surprise her, was between Miranda and Emily. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation. She had accommodated herself to the truth and had come to the conclusion that she would accept things as they were. She supposed they were just ensuring that she was "protected," somehow, as if she couldn't take care of herself.

For the first time, since this whole thing began and Tom had absconded with her to his house, she'd felt like pointing out that she'd been taking care of herself just fine for the longest time. Not only that, she had a good time doing it. And sure, she'd nearly drowned in the ocean, but that, aside from a choice at the end, had not been her fault.

She didn't need protecting, except from her heart and that she could do on her own too.

She didn't let them see those thoughts cross her face and deliberately kept her aspect one of smiles and uber-pleasantness, especially when she finally made it to the table. "Hey guys. Seat taken?"

\- TDWP -


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 14

In a way, Andy expected to have to fake her pleasant demeanor more, but after five minutes of just sitting there and the careful way no one actually asked what happened and the way Connie drooled at Serena, she found herself relaxing and just being amused by things. Her drink had been replenished and the snacks were plentiful, not too sweet or salty, but enough of each to enjoy. Miranda seemed to have no problem with snagging something out of the common platter, even if it meant reaching a little over the brunette to do it. Neither did Emily.

And because they made it seem natural and normal and like it happened just all the time, despite Andy 'knowing' different, somehow... Andy gamely fell under the spell of it, accepting that this was normal for now.

While there wasn't really small talk, the chat was somewhat idle, rotating a bit around SWAG and a bit around the sites to see nearby that Sam might recommend.

Andy found herself thinking about the fact that Lily and Doug would be arriving. At one of the lulls in conversation, she posed a question. "Connie, did Lils mention how much a spot at the SWAG was running?"

Her cousin raised a brow, "Well not in dollar amounts, but she said it was a bank shocker and she was glad it wasn't coming out of her account, if that's what you're asking. Why?" His query was a bit drawn out, as if he suspected that Andy had a nefarious purpose in mind.

"I was just curious," Andy said. She felt quite relaxed at that moment, between the refreshments and the non-provocative way Emily and Miranda were behaving around her, the lethargy she might normally have felt after such a huge emotional upheaval actually translated itself into something more comfortable.

"Curious," Connie repeated back and the way he said it was so careful, that this time it was Emily who gave her a glance sideways. Sam merely smiled in amusement. Miranda, while not exactly poker-faced, simply watched with interest.

"What? I was just..." Andy shrugged and prevaricated.

"No..." Connie corrected. "You had that tone in your voice."

"No tone." Andy denied. "I was just thinking about what people do with spaces at the SWAG. I mean, Lily's gonna put up a mini gallery. Some of the designers have some sweet set ups. You remember that haunted "house" we passed by on the way to the gothic-flavored cat walk."

"I do..." Connie said, his eyes beginning to light. "And where are you going with this?"

"Not where you're thinking. Though it would be fun to see if we could get away with a Tee-Pee tree right by it."

"Maybe some toilet seats with fake cherry trees hung with little bombs in strategic places." Connie projected.

"A few teddy bears with cellophane flames coming out of their heads..." Andy nodded.

"...labeled Flaming Pooh?" Connie started getting into the spirit of it quickly.

Andy grinned and kept on, "But, no, I was just thinking about the fact that we have a bazillion Runway staff here..."

"Exaggerate much, Andrea?" Miranda said, eyes glinting with something along the lines of amusement.

"Well, maybe not a whole bazillion..." Andy gave on that, but now her mind was churning, "but I was just thinking that while Runway now has a presence there, they don't have a space at SWAG to call their own. Look at all these poor, frolicking people." Her hand waved out in the general direction of those individuals playing in the pool, congregating in loud social groups around the patio, enjoying watching the stars that weren't in the sky. "... what will they do tomorrow, I mean aside from be very busy like usual ..."

"Andrea..." Miranda warned softly.

"And, well, maybe not a Runway thing. Maybe my poor dinky little website needs something like 'Visit adventure land.' With a blank space and two chairs set at the far ends from each other ..."

"That's ridiculous," Connie said. "It's not even a complete adventure."

"Anyone can have an adventure in their mind and I told you I was just asking. Now though, you've got me thinking. Thanks, Connie." Andy offered him her cheesiest grin.

"Who me?" Connie grinned just as ferociously back.

"Okay," Andrea leaned forward, mischief lighting up her eyes as if a light bulb had gone off behind them. She finally got to her real point, "Here's the thing. Connie, I want you to find out tonight where Lily's gonna be. We need to know as soon as possible. I'll make a couple of phone calls. We'll set up across from her display. Get some guy with coke-bottle glasses and frizzy hair..."

"...Wearing a lab coat," Connie contributed, as he immediately caught the thought. "Blackboards?" He inquired?

Andy puffed and waved her hand. "Blackboards are old school; white board, with projectors," she corrected.

Connie shifted closer, using his hands to demonstrate his thoughts, "It'll have all the cliches about 'who needs art?' With some antiquated images of bad art."

"Or kid kitchen paintings." Andy confirmed, also moving forward more and demonstrating.

Connie spread his hands wide, as if covering a board, "And the slides will drop with reasons that art should be done away with, like the social welfare of old ladies with kittens ..."

Andy moved her hands triumphantly. "Boo, art! Hurray, corporate thinking!"

Connie laughed and pointed. "Lily will keel you. I am so totally down for this."

Andy looked as if she were going to say more.

"Stop." Miranda's placed a hand on the brunette's thigh. It grabbed Andy's attention immediately. "Go back to the Runway scenario."

Andy looked sheepish for a moment, but gamely explained. "I hadn't even built a scenario yet. Though, it would be fun to put a catwalk with a bunch of chairs around, and have models carrying Runway signs up and down, wearing something diaphanous, but also, say, horse halters with bridles and reins.

"Have a couple of teamsters looking dangerous and tough. Snapping out with those thin leather whips ..." Connie said.

"Maybe hay-bales as the seats at the front, or lining up along the catwalk. The models wear those platform shoes. They should all be black leather patent, black soles and heels all the way down."

"Stop." Miranda drawled slowly, giving an arch look at Andy's obvious tease; especially given a conversation she overheard earlier in the day. "There will be no horse models. Not with Runway's name. We are not the Equestrian. Try again. Emily, call Nigel."

Emily, who was wearing that fantastically revealing bathing suit and was sans phone, looked at Miranda with a raised brow. It was Sam who saved the day. She raised her hand, and just said, not shouted, "William. Phone."

"Sure, spoil the fun. But fine." Andy shrugged and exhaled, and suddenly William was there. He handed Sam a portable phone, who handed it to Emily. He made himself scarce as soon as Andy looked at him. "Seriously, Sam, how many Bills are there? He's just everywhere."

"Just the one," Sam said, "But he's very versatile. And he's still terrified of you. What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. That I can remember." Andy looked at Miranda and cocked her head, narrowed her gaze, "How do you feel about prize fighting?"

\- TDWP -

By the time Nigel arrived, Andy and Connie had flashed through several brainstorms, hashing them out in thorough, quick succession, with Miranda redirecting or nodding at ideas as they rose. Emily didn't exactly refuse to take notes, but she was smart enough to contact Sandra, who did do the job; as Emily, felt quite right with throwing her own ideas into the mix, once she understood a theme. As did Serena, who recognizing the rarity of such an opportunity tossed in her thoughts with a surprising fearlessness. Nigel had the joy of playing both secondary director and referee, pushing them all, except for Miranda, with that artful professionalism that had garnered the snowy-haired editor's faith in the first place.

Sam, in the end, was the one who made the phone calls, only having to hand the phone to Miranda once when someone needed a little more convincing, and kept William busy refreshing drinks and the snacks; and sundry other duties.

Sometime later, Miranda was nodding with a pleased expression. Runway had gained not just a space at the SWAG, but a prominent one, garnered from one of the early departures from an unsuccessful run, and plans had been set in motion that would enhance their reputation with the kind of flair that could be expected at such an event. Irv would be both hysterical about the cost, already mitigated by the fact that the staff no longer had to stay at a hotel, but he would also be thrilled at the marketing. Which, really, they should have thought of it in the first place. They were going to have a very intense staff meeting after SWAG when everyone returned home.

Either way, for Miranda, it would be a win. Plans for teasing Lily and any other designer at the SWAG had been nixed by Miranda's simple declaration of, "As of this moment your design team represents Runway, which means no..." She nearly said mayhem, but changed the phrasing to one less provocative, as she suspected that would have resulted in the opposite of her wishes, "... competitive themes for this year's SWAG."

That had successfully flummoxed both Andy and Connie, who had said, "But what about the pirates?"

"... and the rum?"

"...and the island?" in lament. They had both really liked that idea and had practically built the the space in their minds.

"Especially not," Miranda had said, eyes glinting with terrible entertainment, but expression stern. She was thanking divinity she had twins and knew how to deal with bouncing conversations and adorable pouts.

"Well, I know when to quit," Connie had thrown down a napkin like a gauntlet in mock anger. "Andy, I declare a swim."

"Brilliant. I need to cool off..." Andy meant that in more ways than one. Both Miranda and Emily, once things had started, seemed to have no problem touching Andy in random succession. Sometimes it was to redirect, but more often it seemed as if it was just something that they wanted to do. And, while on the surface the touches had been innocuous enough, she was feeling a definite heat in certain parts of her anatomy. It did not stop her from grousing as she stood up. "...No pirates. I bet Dorene would have let us have pirates, especially if she could be one."

"I know." Connie's arms rose in an emphasized-shake, as he continued to grouse. "It was nearly harmless. We would have made sure they used plastic swords for the sword fights." He swung an imaginary sword in Andy's direction.

She was already countering. "Except for Dorene's. It'd have to be one of those replicas, but with blunted edges." Andy reminded him. Then she grumbled, "I was really looking forward to the trollops."

"Me too!" Connie said, as they both started toward the pool without looking back at the bemused observers.

"What was that?" Nigel finally managed, "And who was that Andy? Where was that girl at Runway?"

"Fetching the perfect coffee and trying very much to fit into our normal." Miranda replied thoughtfully.

\- TDWP -

Andy and Connie cavorted around in the water a little bit. Despite some myths, vampires did not sink to the bottom of a pool, though they could swim without breathing. And, there was simply no point in trying to race one. Not that Andy didn't try for a few laps. Even with a head start Connie took down her record handily. "It's just not right," groused Andy, but Connie took his win where he could find it and she graciously, except for one fist to his shoulder impact, which did no damage whatsoever, let him have it.

After diverting themselves, they split off. Andy wanted some time in the shallow end, while Connie had spotted Serena making her way toward the deeper end and wanted to try convincing her to join him.

The brunette made her way toward one of the wide, clamshell-shaped decorative steps that allowed a person to sit in the water or climb out. She sat down. The crowd was thinning some, and the air was cooling. Her skin pebbled as a soft breeze passed.

She turned, a little, feeling presence before knowing. "Hey Em."

The redhead took a seat beside the writer. She said nothing for a little while and they sat in companionable silence. Then she said, quietly, "Seems to be just a little past a reasonable hour. I think you've proved you're a grown up now."

Andy chuckled despite herself. "Yeah. I'm kind of tired, but didn't want to admit it yet."

Emily proffered a hand, "Come on then."

Andy took her hand, but didn't quite start getting up. "You know, Serena is being far too nice to Connie. I fully expected a bruised ego by now."

"She likes him. She'll let him down easy."

Andy turned and looked at Emily, catching the inflection. "Like she did you?"

The redhead's breath caught and her expression tightened. But she couldn't verbalize it. Odd how, even when one had what they had sought, some things still hurt anyway.

Andy's grip tightened on her friend's hand. "Alright, take me to..." She almost said bed, but caught herself, "... my room." Emily stood up gracefully, tugging Andy along with ease, but not too much force. The brunette looked back to the table where Sam and Miranda still sat, chatting about something which had the blonde looking very earnest.

Probably some vampire business.

Andy returned her glance to Emily, and realized she had so many questions she wanted to ask and very few she felt daring enough to. The redhead, once they were out of the pool, took her by the arm again. The started toward her rooms and Andy said, somewhat speculatively. "You would have made a good pirate, I think."

"Damn right," Emily replied.

\- TDWP -

The next morning Sam described some of the previous evenings happenings to an entertained audience of Dorene and Nan. They were waiting in the sitting room for certain members of their party to finish getting ready for the day. "And then they went swimming. It was just... amazing, actually."

Dorene and Nan sat on a loveseat across from Sam, who had taken an overstuffed chair. They were all impeccably dressed, but their body language was languidly casual. Dorene's arm was wrapped comfortably around Nan's shoulder. The professor rolled her eyes a bit and then nodded, "Yeah. They've been like that their whole lives. It's as if, when they're together, their I.Q. triples. They come up with the most brilliant ideas, barnstorming away.

"You mean brainstorming?"

"I wish I meant the mere act of brainstorming, but no. Did that feel like simple brainstorming to you?"

"No," Sam said. "No, it was not." It had been far too... magical a process.

Dorene lifted her hands as if to say, that would be the point. "Okay, maybe it is brainstorming, but barnstorming, where they are concerned, is much more descriptive. That's why they were not allowed together without adult supervision until they were old enough to be held accountable for whatever mayhem they created. Although, by then they could use tools accurately and that was its own problem. And when the fearsome foursome gather... watch out." She grinned, "At least this time they used their power for good."

Sam snorted, "Only because Miranda was there." The blonde's head lifted and swiveled toward the open doorway, "Speaking of..."

"Has Andrea made an appearance yet?"

"No. Connie stopped by. He mentioned something about Andy getting coffee?"

The editor's expression, which had darkened a touch, suddenly brightened. "Coffee?"

"Here."

It was a very, very rare thing for Miranda to be surprised. It was even rarer that a person carrying coffee should startle her; not that she ever let it show. In fact, that was one of the reasons she had her assistants make the run, coffee was such a unique scent, and her specific blend was one she could recognize in her sleep. Thus, she always knew when they were on the way or had been in her office. Not that there weren't always other clues, perfume, placement of objects. But coffee was one of her reliable methods of determining the reliability of her assistants. Those who tried, who ran the gauntlet for her, benefited. Those who delivered the mediocre effort or had other agendas, well, they did not last.

Yet, somehow, Andrea had managed a feat that no one else could accomplish, nor had.

It was, Miranda recalled, a slight habit of the writer; one that she at first found disturbing and then, later, had come to rely on. As Andrea had only ever used this particular talent when delivering her coffee. Perhaps it was the price of perfect timing. She had to trust the delivery.

She took the insulated cup out of habit, noting that it was not Starbucks, therefore it had to be a more... local... blend.

"Thomas has a variety of beans. You would not believe how many different types. Took me forever to find the right one. And the machine requires a diploma to run, but I got it figured out," Andy said as she passed by, once the cup was safely in the right hands. She took a seat. "Hi everyone."

"What, you didn't get coffee for me?" Dorene mock pouted.

"Sorry, that kind of free random service happens on my good days and for one person only. Not you." She did not mention that, knowing Miranda was on the premises had made the need to fetch her coffee almost a compulsion. It was a strangely comforting habit and she'd had no idea how deeply it ran in her.

"Wounded. To the core." Dorene dramatically placed her hand on her chest. "On the other hand, I'm a philistine when it comes to coffee, so it doesn't matter. Instant'll do for me."

"Thus," Andy said. "No wasted effort. Um. Dr. Acheson stopped me on the way, said he might have something for me later this afternoon. I'll probably be bailing early from the fun and games."

Miranda, coffee in hand settled in a free overstuffed chair. "I will make arrangements to see that you are accompanied home. You will keep Emily informed." Even as Andy opened her mouth to argue, Miranda lifted a finger in caution and said, "That is not up for discussion." She took a sip of perfection, and in a rare act of trust, closed her eyes so she might linger in appreciation.

Her exhale, a near hum of bliss, while not accompanied with a smile, did cause one for Andy, as well as a subtle relaxing of the brunette's shoulders, even though her acceptance of the command was slightly terse, "Fine. I will."

Miranda did not bother to reply as the matter was settled and she wanted to absorb as much of the coffee as she could, while she could.

==**==

A/N - And this brings us up to the last chapter on Fanfic.net. I will post at least three more, possibly all the way to the last and fifth - depending on my satisfaction with the chapters, but again - as is in tags, this is not a finished story. And it won't be a finished story any time soon. I personally find both finished and unfinished stories of value, but I know it can be frustrating for some. So, I'm just reiterating, this is among the unfinished and there is a reason for it. However, I will share what I have so far, so you also have it. If that makes any sense. 

That said, if I share those chapters, I'll space them out over the month, by posting weekly now, so it's not all over so abruptly.

Merry almost Christmas.


	15. Chapter 15

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 15

It had been long enough since Lily had seen both Andrea and Connie, that the usual dignity with which she comported herself, vanished with a scream of joy. Doug was only a little better. They both careened into their dear friends with the kind of abandon that could happen only with long-time knowing. The hugs were fierce. 

And it was only after the affectionate greetings, which yes, did garner grinning stares both from those who were there as part of the group and from those who were merely passing by, that Lily pulled back and gave Andy a shake. “I’d ask where you’ve been, but your website says it. You so owe me! I won’t make you do it all over, but I get a say in the next one.” It wasn’t a question.

“Righto. Should have included you both in the beginning, but...”

Now that she was processing, Lily’s eyes skimmed over her friend, taking in details that most others might not see. “I won’t make you tell us now, as I’ve got far too much to do, but you will spill it.”

“I planned on it. Lily, Doug I have people to introduce.”

“Well, I think we know Aunt Dorene fairly well.” Even as Lily said that, Doug reached out and was grabbed into a loving bear hug and given a kiss on the cheek. 

“Been a long time, kids.”

“Missed you, Aunt Dorene,” Doug said and then stepped back for Lily. Who also gained a hug and a kiss. 

“This is Nan Whitmore...”

 

“I know who she is,” Lily said, brown eyes wide at finally being introduced. “It is such an honor to meet you.”

“Thank you. Dorene and Andy have told me a great deal about you.” Nan smiled pleasantly at the woman before her and then tilted her head at the young man beside Lily. “And Doug.”

“I’ll take the fifth,” Doug said, smiling and reaching out a hand; smiling in a receptive accountant kind of way.

“Andy, I think you may be slipping. Do better. Doug, Lily, Nan’s family,” Connie commented. “Aunt Nan, don’t let Dougie or Lily get away with a mere handshake.”

“I’m not slipping.” Andy grinned at him. “I knew you’d do it when you got bored, and I’d get exactly what I wanted.” She gestured at the expression on Lily’s face.

“Aunt...,” Lily began to stutter, but by that time Doug had already grabbed the socialite into a warm full hug. 

“Welcome to the family. It’s a pleasure.”

“Mine entirely, I’m sure.” She patted his back and grinned. 

“Oh. Well, if that’s the way it is,” Lily said. And then she too, took hold of the older woman. 

“And this is Sam, my sister,” Connie said. “Which makes her Andy’s cousin.”

“Your sister...” Doug stared at Connie for a full second before going, “Oh. Oh. Your sister. I see. Do you do hugs too?” 

“This is California. What do you think?”

 

“I think awesome.” Then he shared, like it was a conspiracy, “Accountants just don’t get that many hugs in New York.”

==^==

Despite her early protestation of not having enough time, Lily took Andy to the side. “So, Miranda is here.”

“Yep. And some other people I know. You’re not going to make a big thing of this, are you?” Andy asked with concern.

Lily reassured, “No. I just want to see if you’re alright. Last I recall, you were pretty torn up...”

Andy smiled, “I’m good. We’re good. She’s not my boss, so it’s kind of different. Did Connie mention she was staying...”

“He mentioned. Said he’d explain more when we got up here, but you know...” Lily offered an eloquent hug.

“Well, I’m gonna let him do the explaining then, because some of it has more to do with his side of the story…,” Andy said.

“Are you kidding me?” Lily’s eyes went wide. Then she shook her head. “Wait. She’s a...”

“Look, yes, but please let Connie fill you in on the politics. And be nice.” Andy poked her friend gently. 

“Be nice?” Lily put on an innocent expression. 

Now Andy offered a warning glare. “I know you. I know how you can be. Whatever you may think, and I know you’re still a little mad about the job, but she’s important to me. As is Emily. As is Nigel and Serena.”

“And Aunt Nan.” And honestly, Lily did think that was kind of awesome.

“Yes.” Andy confirmed.

“Are they... family … then.” Lily tasted the word and nodded to herself. 

“Yes. But I wouldn’t recommend trying to hug Miranda. She’s... got near-family and then close-family, if you get what I mean.” Andy confirmed.

“Yeah. I do. Okay. I’ll play nice. For you.” Lily side-hugged her dearest friend.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Andy smiled warmly and returned the hug, just as warmly.

“What happened to you?” Lily asked after a small pause in their conversation.

Andy shrugged. “I got some bad news. Oh. Look. I gotta go or I’ll be late.” She started walking away.

“Andy...” Lily started, knowing exactly what her friend was doing.

“You said you were busy and... it’s a conversation I can’t have in the middle of a designer’s convention. I’ll call you if Dr. Acheson calls, okay? Then you can decide if you want to come with or whatever.” Andy waved Lily toward her job.

“Andy,” Lily tried again.

The brunette, however, kept walking and did not look back. 

\----- TDWP -----

“You’re fidgeting” Dorene’s voice was close to Andy’s ear, which meant she was leaning over. The brunette had not turned to look.

They were in an auditorium space, having chosen to watch one of the plays being put on; admittedly, a very haute couture play, but one that involved actors as opposed to models. It had actually been very entertaining. Andy could hear the quiet chastisement in the statement.

She just couldn’t respond to it yet.

She had been here before, been to this inner place where her body just, willy-nilly, decided it was going to move. It was the first time in front of an audience, her family included, however. Normally she hid them very well. It would have been easier if they were at least somewhat consistent when it came to timing, but they had never been that considerate. It was kind of like going through both PMS and detox at the same time. The trembles, the shakes, the jitters, whatever one wanted to call it, from the outside it was annoying. From the inside it was terrifying, as it involved a myriad sensations, wherein the actual movement was the least of her worries.

She put her hands on her lap, which wasn’t all that still either, but it did keep her from randomly smacking things. She looked down, rather than out, because narrowing her focus kept her from panicking. It was like waiting for a frayed nerve to settle, intense and achingly painful. Sometimes she could ride it out, wait for it to calm and she could trust that it wouldn’t come back soon. 

Other times...

“Call Emily, would you?”

 

Andy was very proud how calmly that came out, but had she been looking at her aunt she might have been startled by how quickly and firmly the woman’s attention had turned to her. “Andy?”

She had paid internal coin for those few words, and was paying more just to shake her head in the negative. Now her mind was plotting out how to get out of the room. Her one point of gratitude was that they had chosen seats near the edge and so she wasn’t trapped in the middle, having to wait. However, that didn’t mean she didn’t have a few people to slide past; including her Aunt Dorene and Nan. 

“Move.” She recognized the tone and the voice. How had she gotten here so fast? And who was she telling to move? The word hadn’t actually been spoken loudly, so much as forcefully. Andy had felt it, more than heard it; like a compelling that wasn’t directed at her, but impactful anyway.

Andy dared lift her head, and even in the dimly lit theater area, she recognized Emily not quite charging, but definitely storming, her way toward the writer, from the other side. People scrambled, either hiking higher in the seats or moving like a cresting wave away from the fierce redhead. Mostly Andy was grateful to see her friend, but a part of her thought she’d never seen Emily look more wonderful.

In a few seconds, Emily was as close as she could get to Andy without running her over, blocking the view of someone too terrified to say anything. “Can you stand?”

Andy lifted a hand, felt it gripped and herself pulled out of the chair until she was upright, feet to the floor. Technically, standing. Also, maybe, wobbling. “Do not carry me.” She uttered the words through clenched teeth. Then, grateful that her seatmates had picked up on the way things were going, she started forward. 

When she got to where Dorene and Nan were standing, she uttered, “Stay. Fine.” 

Stay was true. Fine could possibly be read as a lie. But she was moving, and she wasn’t stopping to explain. She also wasn’t fleet enough to escape, when, once in the wider space of the aisle, Emily grasped her, and tugged her close. 

“I’ve got you.” Andy was really beginning to love those words, especially when they came from Emily’s mouth.

\----- TDWP -----

Andy, ended up laying on the wide seat in the back, head in Emily’s lap, body curled in on itself. She did not cry, though perhaps a tear or two leaked away from her anyway. Her one comment through the ride had been, “I really hate this part.”

Emily rested a hand on her shoulder through most of the ride. She made one phone call, speaking in that other language. Andy didn’t try to guess to whom, as it didn’t matter.

By the time Cole delivered them to the house, she was more than ready to be in her room where she could shake and bake in private. Her intention had been to walk in under her own power, but even rolling up into a sitting position had her sweating and biting her tongue against a cuss. The brawny bodyguard essentially scooped her out of the car and she realized it wasn’t like he hadn’t had practice with the motion. 

They marched into the house, Emily in the lead, and promptly passed the way to Andy’s room. Not that the brunette was in shape enough to gripe about it.

“Ah. Just in time.” Dr. Acheson greeted them personally and led Cole into the examination room. She was reminded just how careful these individuals were with her, as the bodyguard did not simply drop her onto the cushions of the examination bed. He laid her down gently, and in such a way that Andy could grip the side bars. It helped, but Emily taking one of those hands, despite their crushing grip, helped more. 

The doctor drew close, his expression concerned and his examining touch gentle. He pressed Andy back when she started to rise. “I will be administering a sedative. It will ease the pain you are experiencing now. I will also administer a serum.” His voice was calm, soothing. “I do not know if it will be a cure, but I am very confident it will help. I should warn you, it has unique properties. You will not turn, as there is simply not enough blood to do this, but vampire blood, even in this stripped down form and intravenously administered, is potently healing and combined with Asclepius... Well. I can not predict every result. However, you may find yourself experiencing heightened senses, strength.” He cleared his throat, “And heightened needs.” He compressed his lips. “The side-effects should be temporary, as your body adjusts. We will need to take blood in specific sequence to determine the full healing effects and what has lasting quality. I can promise you will feel better, but ask that you exercise care. You are not and will not be superwoman, no matter how good you feel for the next few hours.”

“No jumping off tall buildings then, not even with bungee cords?”

The doctor smiled at the quip. Emily did not. In fact, her gaze narrowed at Andy. “Definitely not.”

“No fun, Em.”

Emily leaned in then, whispered into Andy’s ear, “You have no idea how fun I can be. But no undue risk-taking while you have the potential for just shaking yourself to death, if you don’t mind.”

Andy closed her eyes and groaned. “Fine. Doc, do what you gotta do. I’ve already agreed.”

The doctor nodded at Emily and lifted a swab. “If you would please hold her arm still...”

==^==

After he managed to get the needle in, and it was with some sincere effort on Emily’s part to hold Andy still without bruising her, and the sedative and then the serum were administered, Andy thought she was gonna die. For a few brief, blinding and soul-scouring moments, everything felt about a thousand times worse. Her muscles all flexed and pulled, her blood screamed. She screamed. It was not, as she had pictured in her mind, even with “expecting the worse,” a moment of light and beautiful clarity. 

It was hell.

And then, as if the tightened coils within simply decided that trying to push her through the roof wasn’t going to work, the pain abruptly eased back; leaving only a shadow of the hurt and stillness in her.

Technically. It did feel better. 

Technically. 

“Holy. Shitballs,” Andy muttered as she was finally able to lay back in a modicum of comfort and close her eyes, which did not stop the gasping and tears in the least. “I think I’ll just lay here a moment, m’kay.” 

She did not see the doctor’s wide-eyed surprise, nor Emily’s glare in his direction.

Dr. Acheson grasped a folder, glanced down at his notes and added a few more. “Well. That was unexpected.”

==^==

Miranda valued many aspects of being what she was. She enjoyed the power and the pleasure of her nature. She enjoyed the way blood spoke to her, revealing its secrets and stories. Truth be told, she was aware of the impact of her fearsome once-over-glance, but most people had no idea that she saw much more than the outfit one was wearing. It was also true that she knew each of hers by name; or a least, when she so desired to know them, she could discover it and summon them by the Prestre blood that was within them. She could know their pleasure, their pain. The flip-side was that she also knew of their absence and loss, a many times great grand minion’s loss might be compared to the sting of a mosquito. A many times great grand-childe, a bee. It grew sharper as the relationship grew closer, as did the knowing.

Miranda, who was innocently holding a drink and smiling pleasantly at the host of one of the many mini-parties, had no way to anticipate the abrupt shock of sensing, blood and bone deep, one who was both her own and not, bend in agonized torment. In her mind, her heart, she heard a scream and, despite its utter impossibility, recognized the voice. Andrea.

“Nigel,” she said in her usual quiet mode, though she felt anything but, “I must go. Please see to this.” This, of course, happened to be the current obligations of seeing and being seen publicly.

“Of course, Miranda. I’ll update you when I see you next.” He was a man used to her abrupt departures and thought nothing of it.

As soon as she finished speaking, before he even replied, Miranda was already on the move. She set her drink on the closest table and left without another word. 

She was in the car when the next one hit and she broke the grip on on the door, compressing it in with a sudden strong clench. 

==^==

Andy thought it might be impossible for her to feel less like a superhero. She felt wilted and achy and hung over. Wrung out. 

While the doctor’s prediction that she would experience more sensation had come true, the actuality had been rather difficult to deal with. Everything was too bright, too loud, too odoriferous, too too much. Her clothing felt as if it were abrading her skin with dozens of tiny needles. 

In some ways, she had been through all this before. Only last time it had involved chemicals and a very nice nurse had held her head up while she bellowed and regurgitated acid from an empty stomach. This time, it was Emily. 

“I’m sorry about the shoes,” Andy groaned. 

“I insist on new ones.” Emily’s voice was cool, as were her wonderful, wonderful hands, which were the only good thing that Andy was enjoying feeling at the moment. 

“Yes,” the young woman choked. “I promise. As many as you want.” 

Emily cast a glance at the doctor, who had finally returned from another one of his test. “I thought you said she would get better.”

“It is taking longer than I expected, but the evidence suggests there are improvements.” He had already explained why they couldn’t yet give Andy medication to ease the symptoms. It was a case of waiting between application of the serum and application of other medication. However, he had expected her to be past the worst part by now, and not to actually need it. By all technicalities, the serum should have worked...

“Well, why is it so...”

“You must remember who and what she is,” Dr. Acheson said firmly. “Andy is not diseased. She is in change and the question is not whether it will happen, it is when, how and whether she will survive it. My goal, our goal, is to help her with this; to facilitate and ease her way.”

“Well then, ease her damn it.” 

He winced at the sharp inflection, the threat behind eyes turned ice blue. Then he looked at his patient and suddenly nodded. It was apparent something was incomplete, and while he was sure that she was not finished with her transitions, he was not willing to add to Andy’s new misery. Plus, he thought, she might be able to handle something intravenously now. “I will. We will.” He drew closer to his patient, finally talking to her. 

She had rolled to her side, one hand gripping the top rail. He said, “This should pass, Andy, but I will give you something for the meanwhile.”

“Yeah. The meanwhile has been just going on and on. Thanks.” 

==^==

Andy was blissfully unconscious by the time Miranda arrived. Emily had changed her clothing to something more casual and practical. She had thrown away the shoes. She sat in a chair directly to the side of Andy, watching the other woman with what might be interpreted by anyone else, except her lover, as a baleful gaze. 

Miranda did not bother with the trivialities, but marched to the bed where Andrea reclined. She leaned in, sniffing. The young woman still smelled of herself, but also something sweeter and more dangerous.

“How much blood has she ingested?”

“None. She was given a single shot of a serum. I wouldn’t even call it blood and even then, it was the tiniest amount. She just...” Emily’s hand waved helplessly at the brunette, at a loss for words.

Miranda was by Emily’s side as soon as she heard the younger woman’s voice crack. She cupped her face and kissed her softly. The redhead leaned into the comfort. “She should be better when she wakes up. The worst, we think, is over.”

==^==

 

A/N - The next chapter will be posted next week, probably Sunday, after I've had a chance to reread and edit a little.


	16. Chapter 16

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 16

Andrea woke up with the kind of abruptness that had her sitting upright immediately. She was deeply aware that her previous conscious experience had not been a dream. She still existed in a state of hyper-awareness, but she felt a little more adapted to it. The monitor beeps no longer sounded like peels of doom and the antiseptic odors no longer felt like personal assault. That easing back of the overt pandemonium of sensation was a state of relief of its own. She also felt very strange, in that sense of slightly dizzy and a little high and off by one step. It reminded her of times when she’d had colds, was heavily medicated and just on the cusp of feeling better. Everything always felt a little more surreal then; just like now.

She still hurt, but her experience of the aches was of varying degrees and placement and they were dulled by, she suspected, the medication that had been in the drip line, which was attached to her arm. She looked down at that line, contemplating whether she really wanted a needle there and possibly making a get-a-way, when she heard a very slow, dangerous hiss of, “Don’t you dare. I watched you try to turn yourself inside out just a few hours ago and I know you aren’t up to traipsing around right now. Leave it.”

Andy’s head swiveled in what felt like slow motion. The effort made her even dizzier and seeing in the near dark made her blink like an owl. “Em.” She inhaled, a sharp intake of breath that startled her because it wasn’t an intentional decision. Yet, at the same time, she had acted under a near compulsion. “You smell wonderful.” 

Of course, Emily always smelled good. Andy also understood that there was a certain fantastically pleasant scent that vampires exuded anyhow, but until now it had been far under her radar. It never affected her, though she could technically smell it. But there was more to the way Emily’s scent pressed against Andy; one she couldn’t describe, except to think that the redhead smelled like mystery and cinnamon and all good things and very, very tasty. The scent alone caused a riot of sensations, which merged strangely with her “already there” aches and pains. Her gums even ached, but her teeth, felt … well... sweet wasn’t the word, but neither was “feeling” things with her teeth. She normally considered them to be mostly insensate tools, until she encountered things like a basketball to the face; now though, she thought she could actually feel her tongue and teeth touching when her tongue happened to brush up against them. That kind of weirded Andy out, but she excluded that from her commentary. Somehow she had a feeling that Emily would not respond well. 

Andy’s head swiveled around again, still in that eerie slow motion, though she was speeding up a little as she caught up with herself. “Was Miranda here?”

Emily had become alert as soon as Andy’s breathing had altered, but now she was watching everything the brunette did with a raptor’s gaze. “Why do you ask?”

“Her perfume.” Actually, it was more than her perfume. It was, like Emily, the pure scent of Miranda; that which made her... her. Andy blinked, smiled then. “I think this was what Dr. Acheson thought was going to happen. I sense more, but it’s not...”

“... like it was.”

“No. Better now. Not so overpowering.” Andy pivoted her body, not quite coming off the medical bed. After all, she didn’t really want to upset Emily, nor did she, with that particular tone of voice, want to test her. “Much better.”

“But you are still not getting out of that bed,” Emily said firmly, lifting a finger in warning. Then her expression softened, “Until Dr. Acheson clears you. And to answer your question, yes she was here and has been apprised of what occurred.”

“What occurred?”

“The doctor believes that certain changes have been accelerated, but not completed.”

Andy considered that, “Well. As much as this sucked, he at least knows more about what is happening to me, has happened to me, than those other doctor-types.” Andy looked down at herself and the gown she was wearing. “Who undressed me? Or better stated, who dressed me?”

 

“Miranda and I did.”

“Oh!” For some reason, Andy felt like she needed to lay down again. Her face felt on fire.

\----- TDWP -----

Modest embarrassment eventually passed, mostly by the dint of reassuring herself over and over that she did not have anything that either Miranda or Emily had not seen before. After all, when they worked they were surrounded by gorgeous models, who were often in various states of dress and undress. And certainly she was grateful for their choice of clothing. She no longer felt like she was wearing the equivalent of sandpaper on her skin. 

It was a relief and it was a kindness. It seemed that kinship, friendship, really did have its advantages in the vampire world. In the Runway world, it would have been, “Tough luck, Andrea. You should have worn better clothes and what does this have to do with the magazine...”

In this world, the unexpected side, the one where Miranda checked on her personally rather than let a minion do it... Well. Andy still didn’t quite know what to make of it all, but at the moment she was in absolutely no shape to complain or speculate. And, she didn’t dare, since she knew she had an ever deepening wellspring of affection, which would not quiet within her, no matter how much she reminded herself of the reality of things.

The opening of the door was not quite thunder, but it did crack against her ears enough that she covered them. Even with her hands clamped, she heard Emily’s hiss of, “Keep it down, you clods. You’re hurting her ears.”

“Oh. Sorry.” 

That was Doug, who managed to make two whispered words sound a bit like kicked puppy and repentant school boy. Andy immediately forgave him.

“Hey Doug.” Andy’s greeting was mellow, quiet. She dropped her hands with caution and watched as Doug, then Lily crept in on their toes. She still heard their shoes scraping along the floor. “Hi Lily.”

“How you doing, Andy?” Lily was smart enough to understand that if one tiptoed, one kept one’s voice at library and church-in-sessions levels. 

Andy shrugged, “I’ve been better. I can now say with absolute certainty, I’ve been worse. I gotta say, don’t hug me right now. I love ya, but I can’t do it. I can’t...”

“It’s okay. Miranda told us,” Doug said. He put his hands on the support bars and gazed down at his friend.

“Miranda told you...”

“She’s surprisingly easy to speak to, once you realize she’s not going to eat your soul for dinner.”

“Lily!” Andy’s voice held shocked humor.

“Also, turns out it helps to have an Aunt Nan to smooth the way,” Doug commented with a grin. “Anyhow, we won’t keep you.”

“She said we shouldn’t stay long, but understood we’d want to see you for ourselves.”

“I’m glad you came. I’m sorry I... I didn’t tell you sooner. I just...”

“We can’t anticipate how we’re going to handle life and death news, Andy,” Lily said firmly. “I wish you’d let us know sooner, but only because I would want to have been there for you. But... Andy, it’s okay. It really is.”

“Cool.” She wanted to say more, but was still feeling somewhat enervated.

“So, let me catch you up on a few things. Doug and I are not getting married. Shocker, I know.”

“Shut up,” Doug said, grinning, and then they began catching up in earnest...

\----- TDWP -----

When she next came to, she was ravenous. 

No one was in the room with the her and she could tell this, even with the lights dimmed as low as they would go.

With no Emily to grouse at her and a terrible urgent need to find something, anything to eat, Andy felt a lot less compunction about getting out of bed. She was an old hand at disconnecting drip bags without messing with the gear that fed them into her. It took her almost no time to get herself on her feet and out the door. 

She did not know the time, or even, practically speaking, the day, and she was basically decent given the nightgown was a sensible, non-see-through gown, Silk, yes, and thus it clung, but the gown was opaque and the color dark. She opted to head straight to the kitchen, without too much worry about encounters.

She was not steady on her feet, but she was surprisingly fleet. She careened down the hallways, pushing off walls when she came a little too close to them. She was suddenly grateful that there weren’t that many furnishings in the byways of Tom’s home. His decor tended toward a fairly modern taste outside of the more social and individual rooms.

Things went pretty well, until she encountered a person; someone she didn’t know, male, and a vampire. In ordinary circumstances, as Andy recalled, she and he might have just passed one another and gone on with life; hardly even noticing the event. But she caught his scent, that seductive, potent glaze of odor designed to lure people to them. 

One moment, the man was walking, the next, he was pressed up against the wall, her body tight against his. She inhaled deeply, unaware of the heat in her gaze. Her forearm pressed against his chest, holding him in place.

He tried for suave. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

She offered him a smile that would melt a sun. “We haven’t. You smell,” her voice dropped to a purr, “...delicious.”

“We could go to my room...”

“No. I was going to get something to eat,” Andy said, with some confusion.

“I could accompany…,” he started to offer.

“I think I want to bite you,” Andy said, her voice laden with surprise. She stood on the balls of her feet, so she could reach, and hovered her mouth over the pulse at his neck. It beat slowly, but she sensed something there. Vampires, she suddenly realized had heartbeats; or at least this one did. Had he eaten recently? Or was this always a thing? She pulled back, confused. “I’m not... I’m not a vampire. I don’t... I apologize. I think... I must just be very, very hungry and it’s coming out wrong.”

“If it's a taste you want,” he smiled seductively, “... then it is my pleasure to offer it.” With that, without even her acknowledging that was what she sought, he drew a fingernail over his index finger and teasingly offered.

His attempt at seduction was wasted on Andy. She snatched his hand, grabbing it firmly, possibly more strongly than he expected. She brought the fingertip closer to her lips and her tongue darted out. She tasted him in one stroke. And then, jerked away, not quite spitting it out, but at the same time obviously dismayed. “No. Wrong. Wrong. Not right.”

“I assure you there is no moral issue here,” he said, mildly offended.

She stepped away from him and actually growled at him, peering sharply. Her gaze made him feel slightly stupid. “Not that kind of wrong. Just not... Your blood it... tastes... not... for me.”

He blinked at her for a moment and then said, very carefully; for the first time noticing several details, including the marks on her hands and the stent that she’d not removed, “Do you know why you said that?”

“No. I don’t. But... I am so hungry. I need...I need food.” She flexed a hand at him, a wave that wasn’t farewell, but the inability to carry the thought forward any more. “Kitchen.” She turned from the stranger then, not quite fleeing, but certainly in a hurry and continued forward in that dizzy, push off the wall way.

He, in the meantime changed direction, having a feeling this little episode needed someone higher up the Prestre blood chain than himself.

\----- TDWP -----

About halfway to the kitchen, and not close enough to anyplace to sit, Andy was struck by a horrible bout of dizziness, which caused her to collapse upon the nearest wall. She technically was still standing, but only because her shoulder and hips were pressed to its cool surface. Her palm flattened against the wall and she felt the paint, felt every pebbled surface against her skin.

She groaned as a new pain lanced through her, quick and fierce. And then, she panted in relief as it faded. 

Andy admitted then, that while she was indeed hungry, it was perhaps not her brightest idea ever to go racing down a hallway in her condition. Yet, this was a compulsion, to keep going, to find… the something... that needed finding.

She had no way to truly know, as every book she had read and even Dr. Acheson had said, that side effects from minute amounts of vampire blood resulted in set parameter, in general terms. He had already listed them out: healing, heightened senses, heightened abilities, heightened urgencies; all of which faded over time. But she was the Golden Apple, and, in many senses in this new state of change was a near malleable state of possibility. She had no clue. 

She had tasted one vampire’s blood, and while it had sung as “not hers,” this did not mean that she had not felt it, had not experienced a moment of knowing, even though it was of a glancing kind. The vampire she had tasted had his own history, his own talents and skills that had been heightened and brought forth by experience, age, and the essential changes that transition always caused. Every vampire, once they became what they were destined to be, received at least one gift that was their own.

The male vampire’s gift wrought changes in Andy.

Her fingers dug into the surface of the wall and she felt her fingernails flex and point and curve and dig. The plaster crumpled and dusted against her palm, which caused her to gasp and pull her hand away; too abruptly. The plaster caved and broke away, leaving a divot. 

But she didn’t see that. She was staring at her fingernails, which at that moment seemed more like a cat’s claws. “What the...” 

The shock was enough to flex them back again, and the nails changed and retreated, forming their familiar and welcome normal, short and easy manicure. 

Andy made a mental note to talk with the doctor about his lists of possible side effects. So far they’d both been horribly right and horribly wrong. 

\----- TDWP -----

She met, on her way, two other vampires and like the first, they too were left erotically stimulated, stunned at the strange turn of events and slightly blooded. Each time, Andy reflexively rejected the taste as being imperfect, not what she sought. And each time, the individual who had been accosted had the awareness that this was not a usual thing and someone needed to be informed. 

So they went looking for the logical person, one who was rumored to be capable of handling such details; Aunt Dorene.

\----- TDWP -----

It was very late at night, around the time that the ongoing “party” had settled and people who were not living at the house or guests had gone home and people who were guests had mostly gone to their rooms. And aside from those three encounters, she made it to the kitchen without having to suss out someone else’s blood. 

It was a relief. 

Andy understood, in general terms, that this had to do with the way the serum had interacted with her body and she also got that she might be compounding things by tasting every random vampire that happened along her way, but she also felt helpless against it. It was as if certain inhibitory switches suddenly threw themselves off and other more dangerous impulses threw themselves on. The real surprise was that, each time someone had invited her to their bed, she’d said no. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t felt the desire to go. The opposite, in fact, had occurred. Her body, at the moment, felt like a flaming ball of desire and need. Her pulse felt thickened and her skin was very aware that silk covered her. 

The journalistic, evaluative part of her brain, which accumulated details and put it all together, had come up with an answer that struck her as weird, hilarious and impossible. Human beings did not go into heat. She knew this as a basic premise. She also knew that, in some ways that wasn’t exactly true. But in her case, at this moment, it was an apt description for a chemical drive.

Human beings did not go around demanding blood either, but yet, here she was sampling the goods. 

Rejecting the goods. 

She really was hungry. Food hungry, not just blood hungry. 

Thus, it was with gratitude that she opened one of Tom’s massive refrigerators. The beauty of living in the producer’s home was that she could trust that the place was stocked; after all she’d investigated earlier. She made some hasty selections and came out with an armful of food, mostly finger-foods, which she laid out on a counter. She picked an item and chucked it at her mouth, ate it and then moaned in appreciation. She immediately did it again.

It was so delicious. It was so very good. She ate a little more and mindful that she didn’t want to appear too savage, she went to grab some silverware. 

As she opened one of the spoon drawers, the one she’d discovered while searching for coffee options for Miranda, she both heard and saw a pop. Well, the seeing part was more of a something that wasn’t there, was there, and then an after-flash that kind of put sparklies in her vision for a few moments. 

She stepped back from the drawer, without the spoon, and stared. Then, as she had since she first scented out Emily, she drew in a breath through her nostrils. Her gaze narrowed down to the startled man staring right back at her.

“Who are you and why are you in the Master’s kitchen?”

“Bill,” Andy said, enticingly. Her expression seemed to strip him and he twitched in a way that said he was trying to remember he didn’t have to cover up. “Bill. Bill.” She smiled a predator’s smile, which should have been seductive, but was a little more eerie than usual. “William.” His name tripped off her tongue like honey, as she prowled toward him. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her fingertips grazed the counter, while she turned her head away in mock flirtatiousness. She began to walk, circling around the barrier that stood between them.

“But I work here...,” he said, confused, but finally catching up to the fact that this woman at least had a passing awareness of who he was.

“Yes. Yes you do.” She cocked her head and started toward him. “I think you may have what I need and you did say to call if I needed help with anything.”

“I... I did?”

Andy stopped for just a moment and considered, finally putting together the pieces of Bill’s puzzle. “You’re a time traveler. You really don’t know who I am.” She grinned suddenly. “It suddenly makes sense.”

“I shift time and space, to meet the master’s requirement, but that does not explain what you’re doing in the kitchen.” He backed away, but there was another counter behind him. He didn’t get far and suddenly Andy was right up against him. 

“It’s a kitchen, Bill. I’m here because I’m hungry.” She laughed in a way that made his eyes go wide. Or maybe it was how she drew her hands along his body. He gasped and then wasn’t there any more, with another pop of sound and flash.

Andy stood there for a moment, slightly confused, still under the thrall of her own hormones. And then the hunger pinged again. “Well, okay then.” She shook it off, and got her spoon. 

She was just getting back to eating when there was another pop. Another flash. She blinked. “Bill! You’re back.”

“Miss Andy.” He actually smiled at her, which gave her pause. He was holding a platter, which was mostly empty and paced toward the sink. “I see you’re making a snack run. You do realize I would have delivered.”

“I’m not thinking all that well, Bill. Kind of a bad day.” Andy said, almost half-reasonable. The food had helped. 

He paused a moment, and looked more deeply at her. “Oh dear. It’s that day.”

“That day?”

“I will get over it.” He set the platter down. “But I must leave for now.” His lips twisted in irony. “I will be back.”

Andy licked her spoon. She blinked at him with wide brown eyes. “Okay.” Then pop and flash, he was gone. She shook her head. “Wow.” 

She kept eating, and started to feel better at least from a not starving point of view.

Pop. Flash.

“Bill.”

A squeak of a noise emanated from the man. Pop. Flash.

She set the spoon down, put her hands over her eyes. The after-flashes were a little disconcerting.

Pop.

She didn’t announce herself this time, just dropped her hands. His back was turned to her. 

She did not mean to inhale. By now she understood that there was a definite connection between scent and re-action. But he’d brought something with him that smelled divine.

Or maybe it was just him. 

Compelled, she stalked him and as he didn’t turn around, she grasped him and pulled him down with a surprising strength. “I need a taste, Bill. May I?” she asked, voice rough. Before he could really reply, her hand struck him like she’d struck the wall, scraping down his chest and through his pristine uniform. 

He didn’t scream, but he arced from the sudden pain. Blood welled against the skin that was suddenly exposed. Her fingers drew down those lines. 

They both heard a commotion, the sound of a vampire’s running, which was like the sound of a wind of wings. Their heads turned toward the door as two people entered. 

By that time, Andy had acquired her taste.

The brunette crouched over Tom’s servant, one hand to his chest, which was bloody. Andy’s other hand was near her mouth, three fingertips still bloody, but one much less so. Her expression was disgruntled, upset. 

“Andrea Sachs,” Dorene said, her voice carefully modulated to gain instant attention and immediate obedience. The tone was one of the few things that could break through to Andy when she was really focused. “Step away from Bill.”

\----- TDWP -----

Next


	17. Chapter 17

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 17

It was pure habit, which jerked Andy upright and away from the prone man. As soon as she did Bill popped away, leaving a flash in his wake. Andy blinked.

“What are you doing Andy?” Dorene asked, quietly and carefully. She started walking toward the younger woman, pacing slowly because the brunette looked as if she might bolt any second.

Andy did not seem to know what do with her hands. She waved vaguely at the food she’d gathered earlier, “I was hungry and then, he arrived and he smelled...” As if the word itself was a signal, the brunette’s nostrils flared on the inhale. Her gaze pivoted from Dorene to Nan. Her voice dropped a register, “... glorious.”

Nan, expression only mildly serious, stepped forward then. She put her hand on Dorene’s shoulder and gently pushed her back, indicating she should get behind her. “And you needed a taste.”

Andy looked at the blood on her fingers and lifted her hand. “But it was wrong.”

“Well, yes it was wrong,” Dorene began, but Nan turned on her.

Her face hinted broadly not to interfere. The vampire said firmly, arching a brow, “Not that kind of wrong, it wasn’t. It was just the blood seeking its own.”

“I don’t understand,” Dorene said. 

Nan reached back then, briefly, taking Dorene’s hand in her own and she said very gently, with affection, “You will. You maybe have experienced something similar already….”

“Nan...”

The socialite’s smile was a fleeting thing, but she turned her attention to Andy then and let go of Dorene’s hand. She stepped forward, moving slowly. “Andy, I’m coming to you now. We’ll talk.”

“Nan,” Andy closed her eyes, and tried not to rush at the older woman. She said, haltingly, “You should probably stay over there.”

“No, I don’t think so.” At that point, Nan sped up and was suddenly beside the writer. She deliberately grasped the bloodied hand, drew it to her lips. Her tongue slid along the girl’s fingers, causing her to gasp; and to arch closer to the older woman, eyes glazed with sudden desire. 

“Nan,” Andy managed. “If I recall, we’ve had this discussion.”

“This is a new thing, an important thing.” Nan’s gaze was serious. “You are on a quest, dear; one that will alter your life in very fundamental ways.”

Andy laughed. “I think my life’s been altered a lot lately.” She leaned closer, drawing in a deeper breath.

“Ah, but this is different. And it’s important that you listen to me.” Nan had not let go of, nor eased her grip on Andy’s hand. “There are courtesies, even in the state you are in. You can’t go grabbing and tossing down every vampire just for a taste of them.”

“I didn’t mean to...”

“I understand that. But the rule is you must ask or be invited. You don’t have to explain why, but you must remember to respect your cousins and even those not of our family line, and let them answer. Is that understood?” 

Andy nodded. 

“Say it. I must hear your agreement.” It was especially important for Andy to do this, since she was, still technically human; no matter what her rank as Asclepius allowed, she still needed the protection of those courtesies.

“I will ask or allow someone to make the invitation. I won’t just force them. Aunt Nan,” she said, appealing as if to a higher judgement. “It was.” She tried again. “I couldn’t stop myself. I can’t make that agreement if I feeling this way. ”

“Have you attacked me?” Nan inquired gently.

 

“No. But...” Andy flicked a glance at her hand and then back at the Elder Vampire.

“You have choice.” Nan said gently. “You may ache with want, but you still have choice.”

“Okay,” Andy whispered. “I will choose to let others have the choice.”

“Good. We understand one another.” Nan smiled, pleased.

“What is wrong with me?” Andy’s question was full of ache.

“Nothing. You seek completion. You seek what many desire. You seek your truest companions,” Nan explained softly.

“Oh,” Andy said as awareness broke through the haze briefly. “Oh. This... it suddenly makes sense. But there’s something else, Nan. More,” she said urgently. 

“More?” 

Andy demonstrated. “I don’t naturally have claws Nan. Or I didn’t.”

“Ah. I see. You’re right. That is definitely more.” Nan looked at Dorene, whose expression had become unreadable. “And I think, perhaps, it is a good thing. You, of all the branches, need the power. Since that is the case, then, my dear niece, let me offer my blood as a gift.”

“But Nan, you and...”

“Hush. We will trust providence. And you will trust me.” 

“Okay.” 

“Good.” Nan let go of the younger woman’s hand. She unbuttoned her collar and drew her shirt away from one of her shoulders. “Andrea Sachs, I invite you to taste of me.” With a sharp cut of her fingernail, she drew a line down and blood welled at her neck.

She didn’t have to invite twice. Andy’s mouth latched over the cut and Nan closed her eyes as her tongue laved and stroked the substance away. 

It did not last long. Andy stepped back, blinking and licking her lips. “Odd. This was different.”

“How so?” the vampire asked, as she adjusted her collar. 

“Well,” Andy said slowly, “Usually, there is a sense of not right. And it’s kind of a very firm “no.” But I recognize you as friendly, good. But not... Not as what I’m seeking.”

 

“Ah. Yes. Well.” Nan cast her glance at Dorene, whose poker face had slipped a bit. “The blood knows its own.” She brushed her shirt down, neatening it. “Now. That’s settled. I think perhaps Dorene and I might join you in your little snack and then you, my dear, should be heading back...” She pointed at the stent, which was still where it was supposed to be. 

Andy felt a sudden bout of insecurity. “Oh. You think Emily’s going to be mad?”

“I’m sure you will work it out,” Nan said with even amusement.

\----- TDWP -----

The aunts had the joy of watching some of the side effects of Andy’s latest taste testings manifest.

It began with Andy furling in her seat, one hand crushing the spoon handle and the other pressing on the counter until her knuckles went white. She grimaced and a muffled hum of pain slid past compressed lips. It lasted maybe fifteen seconds, at the most, but it was enough to have Dorene almost standing and asking, “Are you alright?”

Andy, her expression grim, said, “Never better. I mean, today has just been so fun. Is it still today or was that yesterday? No. I think it’s tomorrow now. Or are we talking even further than that?”

Nan finished swallowing her ice cream. “It’s tomorrow from your yesterday. Nearly three a.m., but only just so. You still have the rest of the day, so you haven’t missed anything.”

“Oh. Good. I thought maybe I’d slept longer.” She shuddered then, a hard motion that nearly shook her off the barstool; except she’d looped her feet to the legs. “I can hardly wait for this one to be over. Dr. Acheson said vampire blood causes a person to feel good. Hah.” She said that without heat or oomph. She didn’t have much oomph in her. Yet she could still smile, even if it looked like the grin of the reaper. “Lies. All lies.”

If there had been any jealousy in Dorene regarding the earlier moments between Nan and Andy, it was wiped away as she realized her niece was having no easy time. “Well, you always had to do things differently and your way.”

Another shudder shifted through her. She set her spoon down, as she felt the first wave slide through her like a premonitory cut. “Okay, this one is gonna...” Lines like crimson thunderbolts formed all along her visible skin, so quick and so many it seemed like she was covered in blood bursts. “Hurt,” She hissed and closed her eyes tightly. Then, a few seconds later, she slumped in the chair and the extra coloration was gone, leaving her pale and wan. She lifted her crumpled-handle spoon and deliberately jammed it into her softening chocolate, chocolate ice cream with a growl. “Nan, this sucks. It really blows.”

 

“It is your body adapting you to who you truly are. I sorrow for the pain now, but there will be joy later.”

“Promise?” Andy’s eyes were wide with broken hope.

“Yes,” the vampire said without hesitation. 

Andy nodded forlornly and took a bite of ice cream. She immediately squealed, putting her hand to her head and squinching her eyes shut. 

“I shall add ice cream headache to your list of no-good-horrible today,” Dorene said evenly, making a mock notation.

Andy swallowed, “Gee. Thanks, Dorene. Don’t suppose you got a suggestion for stopping this?”

“Don’t taste any more vampires.” Dorene’s eyes slid in the direction of Nan. 

“Well, that would be true, but I don’t know that she’ll have much choice.”

“But you said...”

“Andy has the choice of how to gain it, not necessarily the choice not to pursue it.”

“Crap. I repeat,” Andy said, waving her spoon. “This just blows.” And then, Andy just disappeared, with spoon in hand and a pop and a flash. 

Nan was off her barstool and staring with her mouth open. Then she said to Dorene, very seriously and with a touch of dread, “Miranda is going to kill Bill.”

Dorene, who was no less startled, thought a moment. “Only if she doesn’t come back.”

“But we don’t know where she went...”

 

“No. But this is Andy. And all her friends are here. And even is she was on the other side of the world she’d call us at least. I mean, now she would. Or,” she shrugged, “she’ll post us on the website.”

“How can you be so calm?”

“Because lately I’ve seen so much stuff go down, there’s just no sense in panicking.” Dorene got off her chair and paced toward Nan. She paused and looked a touch sheepish. “Well. I can say that now...” She tentatively wrapped an arm around the other woman’s shoulder, “But for a moment there, my heart was in my throat. I thought...” 

Nan turned toward her, still flustered about Andy, but now her attention was all on her professor. “You thought...”

 

“Well, I got the meaning behind what you said to Andy. I knew what you weren’t quite saying. No need to scare the kid with that kind of permanence after all. But the thought that it might be you and what that would mean ...” Dorene’s voice cracked a little. “... well, it’s been awhile since I’ve felt that kind of fear.”

“Dorene. You like me.” Nan smiled whimsically. “Enough to almost tell me so. How... “

The professor began nodding, as words suddenly failed. She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I do.”

“... enchanting.” Nan leaned forward then, and pressed her lips against the other woman’s. “I was never going to be Andy’s.”

“How did you know? How could you know?”

“Because,” Nan said gently, tucking her knuckle under Dorene’s chin. “I’d already tasted the blood of the one I was for.”

A few minutes later and Dorene wasn’t feeling quite so sanguine about Andy’s fate, though she was still glowing from Nan’s kiss. No call and no hint of where Andy might be at; except that, in her gut, she knew the young woman was alive, somewhere. 

Just as the professor was about to tell the socialite that they might better call Bill and see if he could help, there was another pop and flash. 

Andy stood, no longer in a nightgown, but in daisy duke shorts and a t-shirt. Her hair was wet, the nightgown was thrown over one shoulder, she had a lipstick kiss on her cheek and she was holding a duffel bag. 

Nan managed to sound almost casual. “You look even more peaked than usual.”

“Yeah. Well. Rough trip.” Andy paced toward her aunts. “I was going to apologize to Bill, but now I’m not. In fact, I think I might invest in fly traps.” 

“Now Andy. You may recall that he didn’t ask you to taste him.” 

“Doesn’t matter. That was horrible. I had no idea where I was going. At least I didn’t show up in the middle of the ocean and lucky for me Dad didn’t have his shotgun. Scared the heck out of them. Not that Mom and Dad weren’t glad to see me. But they were a little less thrilled with the fact that I wanted to reacquaint myself with the bathroom first.” Andy set the duffle on the counter and laid the nightgown over it. “Holy crap this whole thing makes me dizzy. But they got their hugs in and we had a chance to chat while life was gross, before it took over again.” Andy blinked, and wiggled her toes. A little sand pebbled the floor. “I think I went to Egypt, for about thirty seconds. At least it wasn’t France. I suppose this means I should carry a passport with me all the time. It wasn’t until I realized that I could think a place that things started to change. I stopped at a truck-stop. Managed to get a little cleaned up and the nicest lady helped me out. Oh, and Dorene, mom sent this.” She patted the duffel bag. “She said, given the fun with the Tosri, she’d feel better if you had supplies. Even though I told her it probably wasn’t necessary. I did not mention I wasn’t sure I could get back. She had every confidence that I was and it wasn’t going to take that long. You know the way she is. Says it’s gonna be a certain way and so it is. Oh, and Aunt Nan, she wants you to give her a call A.S.A.P. She says she wants the juicy details.”

The two women stared at the brunette, who finally paused in her exposition, propped her hands on her hips (and one still had the stent in it, so she was a little more careful with it) and shrugged. “Okay, maybe I will apologize to Bill, but he and I are gonna have a long, long talk.”

“Do you think it’s going to happen again?” Dorene asked.

Andy shook her head. “I think I have a handle on it now. Mostly. It quit being a random start a few jumps ago. Just wanted to take time to get my bearings so I would feel less like barfing when I came back. I don’t think I got anything left to lose.”

Despite herself, Dorene laughed. 

And that’s when Emily came striding into the kitchen, all fire and spark. “What is going on? I was accosted by a bloody hysterical servant, raving about an out of control demon in the kitchen.” She turned her glare at Andy, “And I knew it had to be you.”

“Oh.” Andy twinged. “Hi Emily.”

“What, exactly do I have to do to get you to stay where you belong?” Emily huffed. “Handcuff you to the bed?”

“Kinky.” Dorene’s grin expanded.

“Look. Em, I can explain.”

“Oh. So you can explain to me, how you specifically disregarded my request, which, by the way, were the doctor’s orders, and left the room without so much as a note.”

“Well. See. I was hungry. Very hungry.”

“So. I. Gathered,” the redhead said tightly. “It seems you tried to eat William.”

“I did not. I just... he smelled very good Em and he kept popping away. So I grabbed him and well, I just needed a little taste. Not an eating taste. More like a blood... Okay, so it’s a little hard to explain. Nan?”

“Oh. No.” Nan raised her hands and then dropped them back to the table with a grin, “I think you’re saying what needs saying. Carry on.”

“Not even a life preserver,” Dorene said with admiration. She set the duffel back on the floor and took a seat on her barstool. 

“She doesn’t need it. Andy can swim.” Nan said with amusement.

“Hey!” the brunette protested.

“No. You talk to me.” Emily said firmly. “We are going to come back to this topic, but what I really want to know is,” Emily’s gaze stripped down the surface of Andy’s appearance and then rose back up to stare like a hawk at Andy’s face, “Just where did you get that?”

Andy looked at her blankly. “Get what?”

Emily’s point was as sharp as her gaze. “That!”

Andy lifted her hand toward her cheek and then twigged. “Oh. Oh. Well, I can explain that...”

 

“I wonder if it’ll go as well as the other,” Dorene mock whispered to Nan. She glanced back and forth between the two women, noting the way Emily’s ire seemed just a touch possessive and Andy’s quick scrabbling seemed less defensive, so much as confused.

“Hush. I’m curious too.” Nan replied.

Andy dug herself a little deeper with, “This was from Ruby. She let me borrow her clothes.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And where is this Ruby, with the fashion sense of corn-patch, U.S.A.? And why are you letting her dress you? And kiss you?”

Dorene couldn’t help herself. She started to laugh in the way that one did when trying to be quiet for church: helplessly.

Andy avowed, with her hands raised in supplication, “Look, she was just being nice, okay. I didn’t have anything else to wear at the truckstop and...”

“Truck stop!” Emily exclaimed.

“Yes. Well, I think it was East Texas.” Andy said thoughtfully. “I’d been there before, you see and they have this rather memorable statue in front of it that you can see from the highway.” At Emily’s incredulous stare, Andy hastily added. “And Ruby is eighty if she’s a day. She just didn’t want me to ruin the lovely, Em, she said lovely, beautiful gown.”

“Eighty,” Emily intoned slowly.

“Maybe more. Very nice lady. She owns the stop.”

“And she dressed you in...”

 

“Shorts and a Tee. Because they are in the middle of a heatwave there when I arrived and I didn’t have any cash with me. Ooh, which reminds me, always have cash.”

Nan was trying really hard not to join Dorene in the giggles, but failing. “We’ll add that to the list.”

Emily blew out a single, long breath and then said, “So did you bite or scrape anyone else while you were on your rampage?” 

“Do you mean before or after Bill?” Andy’s expression was now very sheepish. “I may have... well it turns out Truck Stops are a kind of a popular place for Otherworld types. Something about being at a crossway.” She looked at Nan and said, “I did as you said and I definitely asked. And I waited for a response. No one without their permission.” She shook her head. “They tasted okay, but no one was right. Though I kind of get your thing for the magical now. This one chick... wow. Tasted like moonbeams and unicorns. I kid you not. Thought it was hysterical that I was going around, uh... well... sampling, which is why she let me. But she wasn’t right either.”

“Oh. My. God.” Emily’s eyes widened. She bit back her own visceral response of jealousy and settled on, “Miranda is going to...”

Nan interrupted very quickly, “Be very happy at your courtesy and thoroughness. She will understand that you, as the Golden Apple, need a variety of influences and experiences to flavor and fill your blood to its full potency.” Nan turned and threw a warning glare at Emily. “It also may be that one of the reasons you successfully made your way back to us, and have control over this new talent, is that...”

“I created the right formula for it.”

“Yes.”

“Oh. That makes a kind of sense.” Andy processed what Nan said for a bit and then said, “But in the end, that’s why I had to take the shower there and why Ruby gave me clothes.” Then she admitted, “I was in less good shape than I am now.”

“Did you happen to mention to these Otherworlders where you had come from?” Emily inquired.

“Uhm. No. Not really. I did mention I’d been several places. I didn’t want anyone haring off to Ohio or here to bother anyone,” Andy replied.

Nan said, “Good. Though, I do think we should tell Tom or Miranda...”

“Tell me what?”

Once again, Andy’s Miranda sense had failed to ping and she’d managed to sneak up on everyone. 

They all turned to look at the snowy haired Matriarch. She continued to stride in, gliding with surprising quiet until she was very close to Andy. Her gaze was fierce, and she reached out, cupping Andy’s chin and turning her head. “This is the wrong color for you,” was all she said and her thumb swiped across the space where one not Miranda’s had touched. 

“She was just saying good luck,” Andy said, expression innocent as a kittens.

“Mm.” Miranda hummed, and decided to take her word for it. “I take it you went on a tour.”

“It was a very shaky and gross tour. You wouldn’t have liked it,” Andy clarified.

Miranda’s lips twitched in an effort not to smile. She leaned in, drawing in the younger woman’s scent with one single inhale. Andy went very still, suddenly understanding on a primitive level how very much some might be informed that way. The way Miranda did it, however, made Andy feel a bit like a fine wine, newly opened and aired, waiting to be sipped. “I detect a hint of were, Andrea. Panther, I think. And a sorceress, not Serena? This one’s family hails from very far north.”

“Well, Serena couldn’t exactly be there and here,” Andy said automatically, her eyes flashing a strange light. She didn’t even try to figure out how Miranda was doing this. Then she said, as if it explained everything, “None of them were mine.” She felt it was very important to say that, to share it with the older woman.

“No. I suppose they weren’t,” Miranda said with surprising gentleness. She whispered, “Are you tired?” But, of course, she already knew. She had eyes. And she had a sense of smell, which told her quite a bit about where Andy had been.

A part of Andy suddenly wasn’t tired, but the rest of her fell under the spirit was most definitely willing, but the body had been through many a travail that night, and at some portions of time in places vast and unknown. Andy didn’t really manage an answer, before Miranda said with a familiar coolness, “You’ve distressed Emily, the good doctor, the nurse, who was supposed to be watching you.” Everyone winced at the same time given the way she phrased that, even as she continued with, “... William and several others. I believe you have done enough damage for one night, both to yourself and others. It is time for you to call it a night.”

Andy swallowed, still leaning into the woman’s touch. Miranda’s thumb continued to slowly wipe her cheek. It was better than the other woman’s kiss, soothing in a way that Andy could not have described. “Okay.”

“Emily will stay with you for the rest of the night. You will go to medical center and have that removed, as I’m sure it does you no good now.” She pointed at the stent, which, considering, it was a miracle it was still implanted in the girl. “And then,” she said with the finality of a judge, “You will go to your own room. And stay there until morning.”

==^==

“Just pick a side,” Emily said. She waved at the bed, which had plenty of room.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Andy asked, incredulously.

 

“I am not letting you out of my sight. Even if you have to do your business.” Emily waved at the bathroom.

“Em!” Andy protested.

“Fine, I won’t look down, but you, Andy, are done playing around.” 

“I wasn’t...”

 

“Don’t argue. I’m quite cross with you right now.”

Andy stood looking down at the wide bed, which suddenly seemed both very inviting and terrifying. She had changed out of the shorts, but was still wearing the surprisingly soft tee-shirt, which was just long enough to “hide the goods,” but suddenly made her feel naked.

“I’m not sure it’s a great idea.”

“It has nothing to do with the quality of the idea. It’s what is going to happen. Get in.” Emily said firmly. 

Chancing a look at the perturbed redhead, Andy lifted the covers and slid onto the bed. She let out a sigh of relief she did not know she’d been holding. She turned so she was on her back, looking at the ceiling and then, as she felt the bed shift under Emily’s weight, she said, “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She expected a scathing reply, something appropriately caustic. Instead, and this was very much to her surprise, she felt Emily slide closer. “Turn over.” When Andy started to turn toward her she said, “Other way.”

Emily’s arm looped over her waist then and she felt a tug, which brought them even closer together. “I really wish you wouldn’t take everything I say as a personal challenge.”

Andy tried not to think on how comfortable she felt, how amazingly good it felt to have the other woman this close to her. For the first time since the application of the serum, her skin felt, and she felt, nearly at peace. “I don’t, Em. I just... Dorene says I like to do things the hard way sometimes.”

“I forgive you.” Emily said finally.

Andy nodded then. Wanting very much to turn around. And taste. But she didn’t, because she couldn’t ask, because she already knew to whom Emily belonged. “Thanks Em.” 

And then, as if those words were all that really needed saying, she finally fell back to sleep.

\----- TDWP -----


	18. Chapter 18

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 18

Andy slept through the sunrise and through most of the morning. It was a deep, restful slumber, one she hadn’t achieved on her own since being diagnosed, accurately assessed or not, and often with medication streaming through her. That night, held by Emily, even if her body made changes, they were subtle and non-painful. Or at least, so quick, she didn’t bother to wake. 

She woke slowly, almost refusing to fully awaken, because of how profoundly comfortable she felt. Inevitably, however, awareness soaked through her sleep addled mind. The pillow felt much different, much more solid than usual. And one of its hands was making soft circles on her back. 

She partially opened one of her eyes, took in the curving slopes and valleys of her bedmate, and realized they had shifted position. Her head rested on the other woman’s shoulder. Her arm wrapped around her waist. She didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to cause anything to change, but still she spoke a greeting, because the redhead would know Andy was awake anyway. Her voice was a rumble of a syllable. “Em.”

She’d been bracing herself for loss of contact, but the hand that had been stroking her back continued its lazy, soothing perambulation. Even with the potency of her scent, the teasingly delicious provocation, her body relaxed an impossible more, not quite slumping, which would have been difficult given they were already in bed, but surrendering. “Em.” 

“You’ve made me late for SWAG.” The words were sharp, but the delivery was affectionate. 

“Yeah,” Andy said slowly. “You just wanted a reason to sleep in.”

Emily’s response was a soft chuff of laughter, which warmed the silence that followed. Andy almost fell back asleep, but her bladder demanded attention.

“I’ve got to get up,” Andy said.

“Not stopping you.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to get up,” Andy snuggled in, drawing in the scent of Emily. 

“And yet...”

“Yeah. Body calls. You really going to watch?”

“No. I’m perfectly content here. You’re not planning on escaping through a secret hatch in the bathroom?”

“No.”

“Then I suppose it’s alright. Don’t plan any activities without me, today.”

“Awesome.” Andy began to roll over and then stopped, because the chance might not arrive again. She propped herself up and lifted her gaze until she was looking into Emily’s half-lidded blue eyes. Then, darting like a snake, she pressed her lips against the other woman’s, briefly, chastely, and softly. 

It was as potent as any drug she’d ever taken. 

She drew back from it a little high.

“Better now?” Emily’s brow arched at Andy. 

The brunette offered a breathy, “Yeah,” in reply. Then, recognizing an urge to do much more and knowing she had to behave, she forced herself to roll away. It was much harder than she would have thought. Yet a part of her felt amazingly triumphant. 

\----- TDWP -----

“Are you feeling up to going?” Emily had put out two outfits and set them on the side of the bed and directed Andy’s attention to them. One was obviously meant for SWAG, the other, for things much more casual. Yet, it was technically good enough. Andy already knew her choice and what it had to be. She was going to look like a tourist, which meant, probably no sitting behind Miranda today.

She picked up the umber silk button down shirt. It shimmered, but her reason for picking it was that she knew it would feel good against her skin. “I’m half afraid of what I’ll do. The other part of me wants to try it out.” She turned to look at Emily, who was wrapped in a silk robe, nothing underneath.

Andy’s eyes dilated. Her skin pinked, but she looked at Emily’s cleavage anyway and had to force herself to look into the other woman’s eyes. 

The redhead’s shake of her head was one of affection. “We’ve missed less than half a day, plenty of time for you to do mischief yet.”

“I’d grumble at that remark, except I know it's true.”

Emily hummed in agreement. “It is blatantly apparent that you should have brought the cousin with you to New York, instead of the cook.”

Andy laughed. “Is that right?”

Emily’s expression firmed. “Yes. The cook held you down, held you back.” She cocked her head, “I try now to imagine what it might have been like and know one thing, Connie would never have let you wear that outfit to an interview.”

“Hey! That was a thousand years ago.” Andy perused her choices again, spotted the underwear at last. “Tastes change, people change. And Nate was an okay guy. Just...” Andy found herself looking at a spot at the wall, just away from Emily’s forehead and tried desperately not to obviously inhale, “...not mine.” And then she picked, “...in the end.”

Emily shrugged, she’d had her own encounters with those not hers. The difference between what she wanted to do then, and what she wanted to do now, were profound. “Get dressed you. We have places to be, things to do. I’m using your shower. I hope you have better shampoo than Head and Shoulders. William will deliver my clothes. Please apologize to him so he doesn’t quake every time he sees you.” Then she stalked out, feeling the need to bite something.

Or someone.

“Was it something I said?” Andy murmured, pretty much to herself.

==^==

Bill arrived with clothes and a continental breakfast, which won him a billion points with Andy. 

She apologized, profusely. “Honestly, I don’t know what came over me. I am never that ... I never...” She tried again. “I never intended to hurt you.”

His acceptance was a silent nod of the head. “Will you or Ms. Emily need anything further?”

“Well, not in blood...” 

He winced. 

She grimaced. “Too soon?”

He stared at her for a second and then barked a laugh, “I think you’ll do, Ms. Andy.”

==^== 

Andy should have realized Emily, once she understood the direction of the brunette’s mind, would also select wear that was more casual and functional than dressy. Yet she managed to look impeccable and very much herself doing so. The once-overs were mutual and appreciative, and neither of them tried to hide it. This time.

The writer smiled. “What do you say we go find out what my cousin and my friends have been up to?”

“Only if we don’t see Miranda first.”

“Well. Obvious.” Andy pointed toward the door. “To the batmobile...”

“You did not!”

“Hey, that’s American culture there. The fine quality stuff.”

“American culture? If it weren’t for Runway it would all be hot dogs and baseball,” Emily huffed as they exited the room and started down the hallway. Cole was already waiting with their ride. “And I am not a bat.”

“But you’d look hot as Batwoman.”

“Really. You think so?”

“Oh, yeah,” Andy grinned, “but Miranda would make an awesome Black Cat instead of Cat Woman.”

==^==

The third day of the SWAG was in full swing and as it was Friday, it was even more crowded and insane than previous days. Andy, who was only gradually getting used to the heightened senses felt almost immediately overwhelmed, but Emily gave her a little time to come to grips and even offered to head back home, if needed.

It wasn’t needed. Or rather, Andy opted to barrel on through, once she thought she had a handle on things. So they gathered their passes, belongings and map and entered the very pretty and astonishing fray. 

Because Lily’s space was closest to where they were dropped off, they went there first. The gallery executive was all smiles and graciousness, but obviously busy, and thrilled to be so. She was also concerned that Andy was back at the SWAG as if nothing had happened. “Shouldn’t you be at home, you know, resting.”

“And recuperating,” Andy said cheerfully. “This counts as recuperating. Doesn’t it Em? Sort of an entertainment therapy.”

“Do not bring me into your delusions.” Emily said. Her attention was on a colorful, wall-sized painting. “That’s quite brilliant.”

“I know. I was so glad the artist let us bring it. It’s already been sold, but we’re not taking it down until the end of the day.”

“Nice.” Andy commented. “I’m glad this has been at least a profitable journey for you.”

“Oh yeah. We’ve already made up the cost of the trip and the space and then some. Which, by the way, I’ve got customers to schmooze.”

Andy waved her away, “Yeah, go on. We’ll catch up later. Dinner, okay?”

“We’ll plan on it.”

\----- TDWP -----

With the effort of a single phone call, Emily acquired the itinerary of the day, so far. They had successfully caught up with Nigel and Serena, had found Dorene and Nan at a plaza-like space enjoying an Italian dinner, and had tracked down Connie and Doug at a men’s wear showing. While everyone was having a good time, no one was doing anything particularly exciting, although Andy had been legitimately surprised to find out that Nan could eat garlic. On the other hand, she had to question why, as she’d seen Miranda order Italian several times. 

“I guess I’ve just been slow on the uptake today.” 

Emily did not offer comment, but continued to lead the way to where Miranda was last reported.

They found her at one of the after cat-walk events, looking fabulous as usual. She was attended by her two assistants, who were both scribbling madly and trying to stay out of the way. She held a glass of a white wine, half full, barely sipped. She apparently liked the designs, well enough to smile and to allow a little hands on attention from the designer, which meant she had been flirting; applying well-honed skills that would essentially bring the designer under her sway.

Under normal circumstances, this was not exactly remarkable, except she normally reserved the big guns for the big shows, Paris, London, New York. It said quite a bit then about her growing opinion of SWAG, which was that she had to be enjoying the talent, both raw and cultivated.

Andy, while technically aware of these sort of details, felt as if the wind were knocked out of her. The brunette’s gaze narrowed down to the hand on Miranda’s waist, which was skipping slowly closer to her buttocks. The writer wasn’t aware of the noise she made, or the fact that she’d even started forward at a very aggressive pace, until she was grabbed and swung around to face a determined Emily. 

“No. Mustn’t.”

Andy’s eyes were not their normal hue. “He’s. Touching. Her.” Each word was an outrage spoken in whispered heat. She kept trying to look back, until Emily finally grasped her by the chin; holding her with a surprising strength, but not cruelty.

“She is doing her job.”

“He’s not! His hand is on her ass.” Andy whispered sharply and thankfully, low enough that normal ears would not have heard.

However the accusation caused Emily to look and to bite back her own response, which usually, because she was secure in who she was to Miranda, would be quite relaxed. She was, however, picking up on the brunette’s energy. And the resultant flare of fury in her eyes was something Andy caught.

The brunette lifted a finger, shook it at Emily in a you-know-what-I-mean gesture, and said, “Ooh! See!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Emily said quietly, through clenched teeth. “This is business and she can handle herself. It normally doesn’t bother me.” She said this as truth, which Andy also picked up on and even understood. Heck, she was aware that she had no right to even say anything, given that she had no claim on Miranda whatsoever.

“Me either, but today. Ooh. It matters.” A snarl curled at Andy’s lip, even as she tried to stifle it. “I can’t say why it does now. But it does.”

Logic, apparently wasn’t going to work. Something else then. Emily grasped Andy, both fists in her shirt and dragged her toward her. Even as the redhead did this, she realized all she had needed was the excuse. 

The brunette’s eyes widened, but then as soon as the other woman’s lips were on her own, they closed. She lost herself to the kiss, which started out softly and at first allowed a pullback, where they stared at one another for a few heartbeats. Then it was Andy dragging the redhead back, this time for a plundering kiss, which deepened with each successive connection, becoming rapidly sweeter and hot. Emily’s fangs were on the cusp of dropping, when a calm, familiar voice said their names in tandem; as if she were just greeting them, rather than disturbing the rapidly ascending eroticism. 

“Emily. Andrea.”

Only she could have caused them to pull back at that moment. Power vibrated in her greeting, and her scent seemed to draw to them from the ground up. Andy shivered into the end of the kiss and, while reluctantly so, was compelled to draw away from Emily almost by the scent alone. From a very primitive level, it took everything Andy had not to visibly sniff the air and then drag Miranda toward them. The brunette blinked and said, as if she were surprised the other woman was so close to them, “Miranda! Hi!” 

The editor, half-full drink still in hand, “I see you are finally here. If you two are quite done putting yourself on display, we shall proceed on our way.” The words were sharp, but her eyes glinted with something more heated and receptive. 

“Right,” Emily said, as if it were perfectly normal to get caught kissing another woman in public. she glanced over to where the designer had been, still was. His gaze was now on the three of them, expression slightly glazed and open. He’d been watching, which meant...

Miranda had been watching. 

She met Miranda’s gaze with a hot glance of her own; not something that would cause a challenge, but one that acknowledged the rise in temperature between them. Then, because she could, she let the essence of what she was, leak out a little. Her eyes flashed, when, as if nothing happened, she straightened Andy’s collar.

The brunette was still caught up in the base need, and it was transparent to anyone within a certain radius or with a certain kind of hearing. “Em,” Andy’s voice was an aching rumble, “You shouldn’t tease.”

“Too late,” Emily’s fingertips casually, but slowly brushed across Andy’s aching nipples, under the aegis of smoothing things out. The gasp told all as her touch did nothing except spike those delicate points further. “Must look good for Miranda, hmm.” 

The redhead then unselfconsciously drew her hands down her own blouse, offering a devastating smile, not to Miranda or even Andy, but to the hapless, obviously straight designer that Miranda had been wooing. By the time she was tugging her blouse neatly, he had snapped the stem of his glass. 

So easy.

She then turned that smile to Miranda and grasped Andy by the hand, drawing her with them. “Ready when you are.”

Miranda arched a brow at Emily and held her glass out, waiting for it to be taken, which, fortunately, someone was smart enough to do. “Come along.”

\----- TDWP -----

As Andy made no sudden moves, except to trail along with them, Emily eventually let go of her hand. After all, the distance between where they were and where they were going wasn’t that far. In fact, Emily felt confident enough that Andy would be occupied by simply being near Miranda, that it never really occurred to her that the young woman could possibly be distracted by any other scent, sound or activity. She had forgotten, or really hadn’t processed, that Andy was under some very potent pressures. True, she had taken advantage of them to tease the brunette to some extent, and she was empathetic enough to want to ease the more painful aspects, but because Andy was so used to living in pain, living under a pressure, Emily had somewhat underestimated the journalist.

Emily, who did have a bit of business to share with Miranda, pulled forward and began talking with the editor. Andy enjoyed the view from behind, allowed herself the pleasure of enjoying what her senses brought to her, and kept step with the busily processing assistants. Right up until she caught whiff of something or rather someone profoundly distracting. 

Then, one moment she was there, the next moment she was peeling off from the group and, while not actually running, moving with a very quick pace in a new direction.

It wasn’t as if she actually saw the brunette walk away. After all, Andy had been walking two steps behind, but Miranda, still walking, said to the aether (also known as her hapless assistants), her tone shifting from casual business tenor to commanding with a smoothness of long practice. “Go get Andrea and bring her back.” She did not mean Emily, who continued to pace beside her.

Despite herself, Emily looked back. “Unbelievable. Where does she think she’s going?”

“Where do you think?” Miranda arched a brow. “You were in the briefing as well as I. She is in a very primal state at the moment. Easily distracted.”

“It’s going to be like this all day, isn’t it? I should get a leash.”

Miranda, despite her usual haughty demeanor managed to flash a quickfire grin at Emily. “I doubt a leash would hold her. I suggest talking with her, finding out who or what interested her and then acquiring them for her.”

“Acquire them!”

“It is not random. It only appears that way, but there is a selection process.” 

“I might as well queue up a line and just have them walk past her.”

Again, Miranda grinned. “That might be a little disruptive, but it’s on the right track. Have one of the assistants track who she was after. Send invitations to dinner, tell them Asclepius Chryso Milo wishes a taste. Those who think they know will come for the novelty alone, but those who understand will come for the honor.”

Emily’s breath caught, as if she suddenly grasped some of the depth about the importance of her friend that Miranda was attempting to convey. Even so, she found herself struggling against the ideas she’d formed of Andy from the beginning, the growing sense of her that she had now, and this new thing, which seemed so far out of what she knew about the writer that it was as if they were talking of someone else. She told herself the growing need to stake a claim on Andy had to be from Miranda’s need to keep the Asclepia in their realm of the Prestre. Even as she kept the politics in mind, she was aware that this was not an entire truth. “If she decides I’m for lunch next, I am blaming you.”

Miranda’s grin was shark-like, “Just because she hasn’t asked you, doesn’t mean you aren’t. I think you and I already know this.” Her tone became thoughtful, almost wistful. “She grows stronger with every extra hour we can gain for her. She must have this time and she must mature on the tree, while she can. We need her strong, Emily.” 

Flummoxed, Emily went silent just as they arrived at the next planned destination. The redhead turned to see an assistant tugging a reluctant, but still coming-along Andy in their direction. Emily was reminded that with Miranda, sometimes, timing was everything.

\----- TDWP -----  
Next


	19. Chapter 19

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets pt. 19

The last thing Andy was prepared for was the jerking nod for her to “come with,” that Miranda performed when they arrived at the front row. It was specifically directed at the writer, as Emily had somehow picked up the idea by osmosis and was already picking a seat. The brunette stared for a little too long and then shook her head, not in the negative, but in sudden awareness as she realized the fashion maven was serious.

This was how Andy found herself seated between Miranda and Emily once again. It was an unearthly, distracting mix and bombardment of the senses. She nibbled her lip, trying to find a comfortable and not too obvious position on the seat. She ended up crossing her legs at the ankles, in an effort to still the sudden jitters, which had nothing to do with any inner reconstruction, but quite a bit to do with the flares of desire that rattled around in her with each little passing glance, or touch, or scent or... She nearly said, out loud, maybe I should go home, but... then she’d remember she was sitting beside, without any sort of hint of acrimony, Miranda. And Emily.

And she wanted to be there. The price might be high, but at the moment, she was willing to pay it. Now if she could just get her leg to stop jumping.

Miranda’s hand rested on her thigh, landing like a butterfly, but somehow even that tiny touch was enough to slow the pulsing motion of her legs. Not her loins though. That seemed to be an insoluble issue. She’d simply have to bear with it.

Miranda’s hand drifted away as it landed, lightly and without effort. She turned her apparent attention to the other high powered fashion aficionado sitting on her other side. Andy should have been relieved, but she could feel Miranda’s palm print on her thigh, weighing it down, burning straight to her blood.

She considered that perhaps she ought to try and find a quiet place, a private place and...

The music started and then the lights dimmed and focused. A model started down the walk.

Emily made the first cracking observation, “She looks like a flower pot. Yes, we’re supposed to support eco-friendly wear, but this is ridiculous.”

Neither of them observed the small hand signal Miranda made to her assistant, who had been strategically placed behind them. Though if they had, they would have known what it meant. “Write down everything they say.” Of course, if they had noticed, they would have clammed up, so she was quite deliberate in her direction.

Andy, while she had not relaxed, exactly, found herself leaning over and sharing with Emily, “It’s not easy being green. I will not comment on the shoes. Which, by the way, I can not count them as. They are blocks of wood with string attached through holes. They are kid’s toys. Feet just happen to be in them. I’m amazed the woman is staying upright on them. Can you imagine taking the stairs in those?” Then she cocked her head, “The one coming down the pike though, that’s not bad. Nice color.”

“That’s only because you have a strange affinity for blue. I think it’s because you think jeans are a fashion always. Do you have something against platform shoes?”

“True Religion is for reals. I worship at their altar, and will sing praises to their divinity. But that color has very little to do with denim. That color, as we both know is the ever delightful cerulean. I learned about it early on, at the Queen of Fashion’s whip-crack.” Andy shifted in her seat, stretching her long legs and pointing out with her heels. “And I love platform shoes when you can tell the designer actually took real feet into consideration.”

“Ah, yes. The notorious sweater. Whatever happened to it?”

“The ex needed something to destroy. He got into my closet and it was one of the many, many casualties.”

At this Emily gasped.

“I know. It was awful. And he was really mean about it. I will not speak of the things he did with the shoes. Good thing I had the clothes I took with me on that little trip and had nothing from another certain place. It was only the goods I owned. The clothes in my pack were all I had to work with when I got home.”

Miranda’s hand landed on Andy, softly on her shoulder, and flexed. Andy unconsciously took it as a signal to get back on track, after all, Miranda had used such signals before in guiding a conversation. But supposedly she wasn’t even paying attention to them. Also, whatever Andy’s thoughts, that wasn’t the reason why Miranda had touched her. In the editor’s world, a woman’s closet was sacrosanct, a place of haven, refuge and meditation. What the ex-boyfriend had done was to her, a terrible, punishable crime. The hand on Andy’s shoulder was meant to be a comfort. The glint in her eyes, which the brunette did not see, but Emily did, promised terrible things.

The brunette continued, oblivious, “But back to the dress parading before us, taking it to the metallic side of things was genius. It’s so shimmery and form fitting.”

“Acceptable hem length, and the designer put some thought into the cut at the shoulders.”

“Nice little revealing dip. A boyfriend would find joy sailing those shiny seas and bobbing oceans.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Or Girlfriend. Or even just one of the beneficial types.”

And they were off.

\------ TDWP ------

Andy managed a redirect of her own, once this particular set on the catwalk was over, by claiming that she needed to use the facilities or some variation of the sort. Because the next round was also in the same facility, they did not have to rush around just yet and it struck her as the perfect time to make a break for it. Her intention was to have a moment of privacy. But that didn’t quite happen the way she expected.

Of course, Miranda and Emily weren’t going to “follow” her to the bathroom, but she was aware that she wasn’t exactly alone on the path. She understood this had to do with a protective impulse and wasn’t about them trying to monitor her in some weird way. It was just she was aching with need and had to address it somehow.

Epiphanies are odd things, striking sometimes when least expected or most needed.

Andy suddenly realized and remembered, she had the skills to deal with a mere assistant.

She was a crack reporter, who had learned long ago how to blend in and disappear in a crowd. It helped that she was dressed for it. It helped even more than one of the talents she’d inherited, though not processed intellectually, had a great deal to do with camouflage. Her need to lose herself for a few minutes was sufficient enough to make her “disappear,” in plain sight. And then, her need to find a place, any place that was quiet and mostly clean, allowed her mind to latch onto the fact that at this moment, her room at Tom’s was empty. She literally disappeared then, bouncing back “home” with a mild queasiness.

But she was in her room, her blessedly empty space. And she took immediate advantage of the fact.

She stripped down with a nearly indelicate hurry, but managed not to tear or destroy anything in the process. The jeans came off, the shirt came off. The panties, already in a state of needing a thorough wash, did not. She drove one hand down, the other across aching breasts. Fingertips pressed and circled, stroked, with an insistent motion, one that almost matched her excited heartbeat. Her whole body was already flushed and ready.

It was a thought, a vision, a memory of a single kiss; one recent and not of herself. The snapshot of a time that originally drove her into the ocean and now drove her to a different salty sea and combined with all the touching, the excessive nearness of the two women most on her mind, which pushed her over the edge.

She came hard enough that she saw stars, rocketing as pleasure raced through her.

It wasn’t until she was done that she realized that she had done this all without once touching the bed and that she was still standing.

Then she did it again, because that had in no way quenched the fire, only eased it.

“Where have you been?” was an urgently whispered demand from Emily when she finally rejoined them, just on time. The tone was so familiar that, despite Andy’s currently solemn sense of being, she smiled. She was in a relieved, fresher, recently showered and dried space; make up and sundries replaced or reapplied.

The brunette did not answer the question, but took her place between them, knowing that now she might survive it.

\------ TDWP ------

Andy’s purpose in showering wasn’t to hide anything. She had done so because she was a practical woman and it felt better to do so. Given how long she was away, the previous state of her arousal, which had been like smoke constantly furling around her companions, and the current state, which read as a healthy vibration of satisfaction in the blood as pleasure’s chemical compounds soothed urgency and produced a change that could be scented by those who knew such things, both Miranda and Emily had enough information to actually guess what Andy had been doing. The where was less obvious, but not as pressing a piece of information.

More, it was an equally attracting scent for both of the other women.

Miranda was reminded that Andrea, well loved, was a pheromonal smorgasbord. Her mind flashed back to the myriad of times she’d had cause to be alerted to that knowing, including Paris, which as a wound was fading quickly the longer she was around the writer. She had developed, over the course of these few days a deeper understanding of the tensions pulling at the girl, both at the time and afterward. Unlike past occasions, Miranda was gratified to realize that her Andrea had not engaged “assistance” in the matter of her pleasure. The heady aroma was delicious, but unsullied by another’s scent. Not that she would have held it against the brunette. Much.

Miranda still wrestled with the fact she often felt insanely jealous of those outside her kin-ties who touched the girl. As a vampire, there was little point in the emotion, but Andrea had always affected her oddly, wonderfully, profoundly.

The scent of her caused the fashion-maven to unconsciously lick her lips and slide her eyes toward the younger woman. She found herself reaching out again to touch, before she got herself under control.

So she tried a different gambit, pretending for a moment she couldn’t guess. “How far did you have to walk to find a place to...?”

Andy turned those big brown eyes on Miranda and did not lie at all. She simply did not exactly answer the question. “Pretty far.”

The eyes gave the younger woman away too, with their sated glimmer. It made Miranda want to drag the brunette onto her lap for a thorough tasting; and touching. That would have been unseemly, especially amongst this crowd, but a part of her made the promise to herself that when she had the opportunity, had navigated the full rights to such a thing, she would so take advantage...

She touched anyway, despite herself, just as she had been since the night of the dinner. It was as if touching the girl was something ingrained and necessary to her being, both primitive and uplifting. Laying her hand on Andrea’s thigh possessively, she left it there, felt the inner sigh and relaxation that she’d never reveal to a stranger, settle within.

The brunette seemed to relax more too, not quite curling into her chair, as these seats weren’t made for that sort of thing, but also not fidgeting the way she had before. Her body language spoke to Miranda as, she turned to face Emily, one leg under the chair, one leg extended toward the redhead, almost but not quite touching. She leaned toward Miranda, back to her on a pivot, but not entirely away; simply facing the direction of Emily and the catwalk. It seemed for a moment as if she did not know what to do with her hands, and then, in a surprising move, one of the younger woman’s hands settled on hers; not holding it there to contain, but rather, a covering. The other hand was busy, part of an explicating motion, as Andy, still not quite answering the questions that Emily actually posed, provided her Childe with something to chew on.

“Well, Em, I just thought it was a lovely time to go home. Then, you know, I hurried back.”

“Sandra said she lost you.”

“Have you been out there? It’s a crazy crowd, Em. Of course she lost me. I nearly lost myself. Fortunately this place has signs all over.”

“Ah, so then you got lost and it took forever to find your way back. Why didn’t you just say so?”

“And admit to being directionally challenged? Never.” Miranda suspected there was quite a bit more to the story, but did not want to interrupt. She came to realize one thing, her Andrea had not yet lied, but she surely had controlled the flow of information. Interesting.

Emily sniffed in mock disdain, then, as if she couldn’t help herself, reached and with the barest touch of the fingertips to Andy’s jaw said, “You did tidy up well.”

Andy’s eyes twinkled, “From you that is high praise.” The lights began to dim and Emily seemed to realize she was stroking Andy in an unconscious gesture. She withdrew, but as her hand dropped, the brunette caught it, and held it lightly and so, by the time the lights were completely down, she had both of them in the sparest of grips, ready to let go at the merest hint.

\------ TDWP ------

Miranda liberated her hand, but with great reluctance and only out of necessity. She had a small amount of business with the individual on her other side and needed both hands as a means of expressing a certain posture. Nor could she, without being very obvious lay her hand back on her Andrea’s thigh.

Emily’s hand, in the meantime had managed to find its way to the top of Andy’s. They had been, since the start of the first model’s walk, playing a very slow game of dominance; with each vying in slow motion to be the “one” on top. They did this, as they began a fresh round of critiques regarding the clothes, shoes and sundries, both seeming oblivious to Miranda’s opinion one way or the other.

The editor-in-chief watched them play with some amusement. They were too old to let things get to a hand slapping stage, but also old enough that the changes in position were done through caresses, both fair and teasing. The whole hand, after all, was an erogenous zone, from palm to back. It was, in its own way, an erotic dance; daring in its subtle modesty and brazenness. If the writer had played this tender game with anyone else...

Miranda still would have felt fire in her blood, though perhaps enhanced by a different kind of mood. The editor-in-chief ostensibly kept her attention on the catwalk, as did her two companions. But even as she did so she was also aware as the gentle battle escalated and then finally resolved itself.

By the end, Emily and Andrea’s hands were clasped, side to side side, with neither woman dominant, but both equal in their grip. More, she read, quite correctly, that both women were quite satisfied, if a bit stirred, by the result. It was a highly desirable and pleasurable outcome. One might even call it a forecast. A serenity and a near smugness blessed Miranda’s expression throughout the rest of the show, though she did purse her lips at the presentation. Twice.

==^==

“Hey Em, I have an activity in mind.”

The redhead suddenly had several activities that wanted to flood her consciousness right that moment. None of which had anything to do with what Andy said next. They were at one of the last to-dos they planned on attending that evening, watching Miranda and her assistants circle the room. “And what would that be.”

“I heard there’s a Harry Potter exhibit around here somewhere. I won’t call it fashion, but apparently there are robes and scarves and a bunch of nifty toys.”

“Things that Caroline and Cassidy would like...” Emily sniffed and then grinned despite herself, “Fine. We should go look. They don’t seem to outgrow Harry Potter.”

“Once a fan, always a fan. Let’s go tell Miranda we’re going to blow this joint.”

\------ TDWP ------

Andy leaned forward, her nostrils flaring. Then, as if she had to force herself to step back, she shook her head and offered a sheepish glance at Emily, who was thankfully preoccupied. The brunette turned her attention to the woman assisting her. The writer’s smile warmed, “Forgive me. Lately I’ve been smelling everyone and everything. I can’t quite help myself. I should mention, I think you are in the right place.”

The woman blinked at her a bit. “Beg pardon.”

Andy’s smile widened and her voice became an inviting purr, “Well, you smell magical.”

Emily’s attention snapped to Andy and she dropped the scarf she’d been examining for quality back onto the table. She marched to Andy’s side, managed to resist grabbing her outright, but her outrage fairly shimmered in her body language. “Andy, if I might have a moment.”

Andy threw another winning smile at the other woman and then said, without looking Emily, “Yeah. Sure, Em. In a second.”

“One,” Emily counted. Then she abruptly grasped Andy by the shoulder and turned her.

“What?” Andy said, startled.

“That was a count of a second.”

“I... What?” Andy flashed a glance back the other woman.

Emily flashed her teeth at that same woman. Her gaze glowed with danger. Then she said, “You have somewhere else to be.”

“I sure do,” the other woman said hastily and even though it meant leaving behind some valuable objects, she was on the other side of the display area in a few steps.

Andy was all shades of confused, “Why did you do that?”

“Because,” Emily started; not finishing with the words, ‘You’re mine,’ or ‘You’re ours.’ Though her eyes and stiff body language were all sorts of give-a-way. But she carried on with another truth, if a touch stretched on the point, “... I’ve been asked to assist you with your quest and we haven’t had a chance to speak about it.”

The brunette blinked at the redhead for a few silent moments before summoning up, “Okay. So what do we do now?”

Emily’s jaw flexed, as she struggled to compose herself. She drew Andy closer and whispered, “Perhaps you ought to tell me first, when you smell something lovely.”

Andy suddenly grinned, “But I did.” This time Emily’s brow flexed. Andy’s grin faded slightly. “Okay, inappropriate teasing is done. However, I’ll point out I don’t always know until...”

“I understand that, however, do your best to come to me first. I will make arrangements for meeting in more appropriate places. Or rather, I will assist by having Sandra do so.”

Andy’s grin brightened again, “Uh-huh. You just want first approval of my future blood donors. I get it.”

“That is not...” Andy ‘s grin widened and she stepped away, walking back toward the counter-girl. “I was not...,” Emily continued to bluster. “We are not done.”

“Well, no, but I am done with the conversation, Em,” Andy shot back. She started in the direction of the other woman, as if she couldn’t quite help it. Then she paused and looked back over her shoulder at the suddenly quiet Emily. She couldn’t have said what it was, exactly, something in her eyes, her posture, but the part of Andy that was going to tease Emily further suddenly retracted its claws.

She turned fully then, coming back to the redhead, not quite stopping as she suddenly felt the need to leave the marvelous display for at least a moment. She paused only long enough to say, “I will try, Em.” Then, because she didn’t dare stay in the same area as either person in the Harry Potter display area, she was back in the busy, busy wide walkthrough that led to various ports of design, couture and delights.

\------ TDWP ------

Emily found her pretty quickly, despite losing her in the crowd, by following Andy’s scent which she was now quite attuned to. The writer was lingering at one of the myriad food stations, a pastry place. The scent of yeasted dough and sugar was enough to make a foodie high. Now that she was Miranda’s, the worries of the past about her weight had slid off her like an old suit. She could eat what she wanted, but her past habits also held and she would likely never be one to overindulge.

Well, unless it was spending quality time with her Miranda, which was hardly an overindulgence, just gloriously sybaritic.

That thought, combined with the hungry expression on Andy’s face caused Emily to have a non-trivial erotic response.

What she hadn’t realized was that she vocalized, until she realized the brunette’s gaze was centered on herself and very flushed. “Oh. Hi Emily.” Her greeting was husky, strangled. “I found pastries.”

“I see that.” Emily realized her intonation was no better than Andy’s. She was gratified, however, to note how strongly the other woman reacted.

“Want anything,” Andy said hopefully, semi-turning away, as if the eye contact was simply too sharp at the moment.

Really. Emily should take Connie’s advice and just drag that pretty ass over her knee and spank Andy till it shined; the everlasting temptation in the words, as if she planned it. Which, Emily knew, she had not. God.

And despite herself, Emily replied. “Oh yes.”

Andy might very well melt before her eyes, so sharp and hot was the auric impression of her response.

That was it. That was just…

She tried, just for a flashing second to turn her attention to the pastries, to feel their appeal, which she normally did, but… oh god, the blood, which pulsed through the writer like thunder, so hard and fast that Emily could hear the uptick … and Andy, her physical form, her essence…. Andy, was beckoning her like a siren.

Emily wasn’t even aware that she’d grabbed Andy by the wrist and had dragged her forward, almost lifting her off her feet, marching at a pace that was not quite too fast for Andy, but was clearly faster than normal. The redhead's’ gaze took in every dark nook and cranny, seeking, seeking.

Finding.

They slid through a curtained space, into darkness, where Emily knew no living thing was currently. Storage. It was just storage for extra items that might be needed for set ups. Stacked chairs. A very convenient table.

She propelled Andy back, until the brunette’s hips were flush to the edge of that table. Then, without any preamble or try at talking herself out of it, Emily grasped the back of Andy’s head, pulled her forward and kissed her as if the world would end. She plundered Andy’s lips, tasted them both, the upper and lower and then the all, in sequence and then again and again. She claimed Andy’s tongue with her own, lightly dueling, this time, not trying for dominance, but for equal surrender. Finding it. Andy’s kisses, she was reminded, made an impression.

Her fangs dropped with an erotic rush, and all that did was cause her to drop her hands to Andy’s thighs, because now the writer was just as invested as she was in the amazing, sultry kiss. She pushed and Andy slid up the table and she spread.

Emily touched her then, resting a palm between her legs on the surface of Andy’s jeans. Even now she could feel the heat, the need building and pulsing. She had no idea Andy would be so responsive and yet, as the brunette pressed back she felt a sudden swell of power and affection for this woman who had driven her to distraction years ago; who was driving her to distraction now.

It was inevitable that Andy’s tongue would brush against one of her fangs, which caused an immediate groan of pleasure from Emily. The heated kiss abruptly paused, but only because Andy was drawing her tongue along the sharper edge, testing.

Teasing.

Emily’s other hand moved and laid a light, but definitely feelable smack on the other woman’s lower hip

“Em, are you going to bite me?”

“Do you want me to?”

Andy’s eyes brightened. “Yes.”

.


	20. Chapter 20

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets pt. 20 

It wasn’t Andy’s intent to make the redhead go chasing after her and then, when she was found, she hadn’t been prepared for how viscerally she would react to her. The undertones of jealousy, possessiveness and desire had confused the brunette, until the moment Emily was kissing her. And then, it was all about desire and the rest of her concerns and dismay became so much dry grass for the fire. 

Emily tasted good. She felt good. Her kisses lit Andy up, sparked pleasure at her core and all through her body. Her touch was scorchingly tantalizing and where she was touching... Andy wanted to undo the buckle, the snap and the zipper. She wanted to feel Emily’s fingers sliding through her curls, she wanted to feel her press in and more.

When her sharper teeth, those magnificent beauties, appeared, well, Andy’s need skyrocketed. She didn’t care if Emily peppered her with bite marks so long as it was her that did it. For once the constant ache that was Miranda’s absence was soothed and blessed, still there, but it was as if the older woman was just as present, watching in the distance; not fanning a spout of ire, but rather the flame of need that curled and burned through the writer.

Emily’s palm rubbed against her center, pressing and releasing in sensual motion, making Andy crave. Her lips slid from Andy’s mouth to her jawline, to her neck. She felt those sharp teeth brushing by without cutting noticeably. It was a sensual slide of a kiss and Andy’s head tilted away, revealing a swan-like column of her neck. Emily’s for the taking. The redhead captured an earlobe and tugged, suckling lightly, before releasing and tonguing her way down.

Andy’s hands finally managed the buckle, the snap. Emily took over the zipper and then slid in between panty and curls, sliding against Andy’s heated skin, finding the sweet, prominent point, already slick and moist for her. For her!

Emily growled. The noise went straight to Andy’s center and her hips lifted, pressing herself to the Brit’s softly claiming touch. She hooked one leg around Emily and the opposite arm, drawing her closer. She felt the flutter of a kiss at her neck and anticipation coursed through her veins. Andy gasped as she felt fingertips press against her craving center of need, without entering. “Please. Please...” Need, the one that had been supposedly assuaged earlier, spiked so sharply in the brunette that it left her breathless and bucking lightly.

The pressure increased and tips of the redhead’s fingers pushed while her thumb gently thrummed pleasure in a deeper spiral. Andy gripped Emily to her. “Yes,” she hissed with sheer readiness.

“Emily....” The name glided, elongated, through curtains, a sound and an echo of the past. It was a summons, not just for one, but for both and they somehow both knew it. The sound was playful, but its results were a pause that was both shocked and slightly cold. 

Andy’s eyes widened as her mind unclouded. “Oh!” Her eyes widened and she abruptly let go with her hand, though her leg was still wrapped around the other woman. “Emily. What have I done?”

 

Somehow Emily knew. She couldn’t have said if it was the expression on the other woman’s face, or the change in the energy around her. But she could feel the sense of the other woman’s retreat before it started. “Stay!” The command snapped out, cold and sharp. Almost Miranda-like.

Andy’s expression was agonized. “Emily. I am so...”

“Hush. This was not just you. You have nothing,” Emily said very sharply, “Nothing with which to fear, from me, or from Miranda.”

“But you...”

“I will handle Miranda.”

“But...” Emily leaned forward, kissing Andy abruptly. 

“Trust me.” 

Andy blinked, and then groaned as Emily made one more soft press and then oh so delicately withdrew. “No....”

“No you won’t trust me...”

That earned a small shoulder slap, nothing harmful. “Em. I trust ...”

“Was teasing.” Emily kissed her again, deliberately wrapping one arm around Andy, holding her.

“I normally don’t have to call twice,” Miranda’s cool voice interrupted. “However, I see that there is a need...” Where before they hadn’t heard her at all, now her heels clicked a familiar rhythm as she walked toward them; rather, stalked toward them. 

Andy went completely still, eyes so wide and expression such that she looked like a doe caught in headlights. 

Emily turned, still holding the brunette, but arcing toward Miranda, who was suddenly just there, holding the redhead from behind, grasping Emily’s free hand, which held the evidence of her most recent activity. 

“Well. What have we here?” Miranda purred. Her hold on Emily’s hand appeared to be a strong, wicked grasp, folding her fingers close, the older woman’s thumb in her palm. She drew it close to her nose, sniffing delicately. “Naughty.”

Emily smirked, which kind of scared Andy. The flare of fear pulsed through her blood and was enough, even with all the heady aromas already flooding the area, to turn the vampires’ attention toward her. These vampires might not be monstrous, but they were predators and they knew what flavored the blood and that heightened emotions could sweeten it; and Andrea’s blood was already a carnal, heady mix.

Miranda tongue flickered out, licking the Brit’s fingers, causing Emily to gasp and Andy’s need to spike again. The older woman hummed, purred. Her voice was smoke and desire, “Delicious. As I knew you would be.”

Andy exhaled, shivered at the tone. “Miranda, I... It’s not Emily’s fault. I...”

“If I wanted excuses, I would have asked for them.” Ice blue eyes held Andy’s gaze, captured her. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Then Miranda’s attention turned back to Emily. “I thought we had an understanding.” Need swirled in both of their gazes.

“We did. We do. I...” Emily glanced back at Andy, couldn’t help the sultry smile. “... was weak.”

“Do not scream.” It wasn’t quite a snarl, but the harshness rattled Andy’s spine and the speed... 

Miranda was at Emily’s neck, teeth plunged deep. The redhead seemed to crumple, but was drawn up by Miranda’s grasp. Her expression was one of agony and then, abruptly, ecstasy. She made no sound whatsoever in either state. 

Miranda pulled back and Andy caught a glimpse of those fangs, still glistening with blood for just the briefest of moments before they went white again. The older woman dipped back, laving her tongue along Emily’s neck. She whispered something to the redhead, not quite moving her lips. Andy couldn’t hear it, but she knew something had been conveyed.

Emily gazed back up at the Matriarch. “Yes, Miranda. But no guarantees. I simply can’t make them now.”

Miranda shook her head, expression affectionate. She released the redhead’s hand, drew her fingertips along Emily’s jaw. “Cheeky. But as it must be.” 

She turned to Andy, who was in a state of high burn and confusion. “Miranda, I...”

As Emily was able to stand on her own, if with a bit of a sway, Miranda gently released her and drew her back. Suddenly it was Miranda between Andy’s legs, though her expression had gone from seductive to carefully neutral. Her palm rested on Andy’s face, rose to her forehead, as if taking her temperature, which maybe she was. Andy leaned into her touch, whimpering despite herself and scooting slightly forward. 

“Shh...” Miranda soothed. She stroked downward, not saying another word, but as she did so, Andy felt the ache within ease back until it was tolerable again. The throbbing points south pulsed less fiercely. Her nipples still ached, but now they felt less like they’d cut through her bra. Andy could breathe again, a little less desperate. 

It wasn’t an orgasm, but the relief was a pleasure of its own. 

Miranda’s hands were doing the exact opposite of what she wanted, yet at the same time she found the action of the zipper sliding up, the button and belt being refastened terribly erotic. Andy watched avidly, hungrily. 

Miranda almost smiled. “Get yourself together, you two, and meet me at the next show.” With that, suddenly Miranda wasn’t touching either of them any more and she left the area.

“Wow.” Andy said, looking ruffled and not exactly satiated, but not dying for it either.

“Tell me about it.” Emily said, still a little dazed herself.

\----- TDWP -----

Connie and Nigel caught up with them just before they entered the dimly lit runway space. “Oh, I perceive that some of us have been having fun,” Andy’s cousin grinned wickedly. “Did we have a little playtime behind the scenes?” 

“You know,” Andy began, “I love you, but now is not a good time. Unless you really don’t like your knee caps.”

“Whoops.This is me shuttin’ up. So playtime, but no happy ending.”

“Your cousin has a death wish.”

Nigel glanced to the young man at his side and just grinned. “He’s already dead, darlings.”

“Why do people keep reminding me of that. And, I should point out, that technically, that’s a myth.”

“Did your heart stop?” Andy asked sweetly as Connie gallantly let herself and Emily go first.

“Well. Yeah. But it wasn’t for that long. Maybe a half a minute...”

“Then technically...”

“No. No. People on surgical tables die for longer and are resuscitated...”

“Darlings, do you mind if we do not have this discussion now.” Nigel quipped. “As delightful as it is...”

 

“Sorry Nige.” Andy flickered a smile at him, then grimaced at her cousin playfully before grinning at him. “Sorry Deadboy.”

“Unbelievable,” Connie muttered, but he was still grinning and they all took their seats.

\----- TDWP -----

It would have been so much easier if she’d been able to concentrate on this last show, but Andy’s attention was split in several directions. First she was distracted by Emily, who had once again positioned herself by the writer, sitting unnecessarily closely so that some portion of their bodies seemed to always be touching, and smelling good enough to layer the temptation with a slowly renewing heady urgency. And at the same time, Andy was gamely trying to concentrate on and do her part with the observational commentary, when all she wanted to do was grab the other woman and drag her right back to that quiet space for some more “quality” time. 

Then there was Miranda, whose touch she also could not begin to forget, even though the purpose had been to sooth, the fact that her hands had been anywhere near her belt and parts lower was enough to spark quickly suppressed bouts of hyperventilation or flushing rushes of need; which, ironically, she’d almost thought she’d be, if not over, at least able to control. But no, all it took was a glance in the editor’s direction and Andy couldn’t decide if her skin was on fire or if she’d just simply started wetly combusting. So a part of her mind was also working on the necessity of escape. 

Meanwhile, she was also trying to act normal around her cousin and other friends, and not doing a very good job of it. Andy suspected that the only reason she wasn’t being teased was that they were so near Miranda now. Otherwise, it was more than half-likely that she’d be blushing for other reasons. As it was, sometimes she’d catch Connie glance her way and he’d mouth a quick word or wink and she’d find her face flushed again. 

Yeah, escape was quickly becoming a priority.

\----- TDWP -----

After the show and attending a late night event previous to going home, Andy had yet to make good on that inner goal. On the plus side, however, she had not spontaneously burst into flames, so there was that. She held a flute of sparkling wine in one hand, arms semi-crossed, while she leaned against a table’s edge. Miranda and Emily were making a circuit around the room and she was still trying to figure out how they’d managed to pull a promise of “stay” from her. 

She watched as the elite and the not-so-elite floated around, basking in the latent energy of the newest excitement, intriguing scents and sounds wafted by. She tried her best not to be too distracted by them. After all, she’d promised Emily that she wouldn’t go haring blindly off after that last episode. 

However, it was really hard. Sometimes a person would just catch her eye, or her nose, or she’d hear a particular sound.

Andy was having a difficult time being still. The only saving grace was that it wasn’t a form of jitters, just a sense of movement that had her swaying a little to an inner beat. Her attention flickered, picking up pulses, glorious and terrible scents; there were so many different kinds of people here and a shocking number were not human.  
“Bored are we?”

Andy, who had been so busy paying attention to everything and nothing at all, was startled enough that she jerked. The motion was enough to send a splatter of white wine into the air and out, fortunately missing catching anyone, but not for lack of flying. Andy managed a very non-gracious, “Gah!” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Don’t do that!” Then, she did a double take, suddenly grinning and flinging her arms around the one who had disturbed her. “Christian!”

“Hey Miranda girl!”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Andy commented. She glanced side to side, as if she were in a spy movie. “Is it safe?”

“Let’s just say a deal was made and my life is no longer forfeit; at least according to someone we both know. Plus, I couldn’t just stay away forever. Sometimes,” he said as he fisted his hands and shook them gently, “You gotta take the horns.” His grin widened. “Otherwise the horns take you.”

“Or the teeth...”

“That too.” Christian nodded sagely. “Wanna blow this joint?”

“Can’t. Made a stupid promise.”

 

“Ah. And I suppose kidnapping would be a bad idea.”

“Dire.”

“Hmm. Guess I’ll just have to hang around and talk with you. That is, until my girlfriend shows up. You haven’t seen her by the way?”

“Here and there, but not in here, if you follow.” 

“Too well. Refresh your wine?” He glanced pointedly at the emptied glass, his smile warm.

She grinned. “Your risk, but I’d appreciate it.”

“Anything for you, fair lady.”


	21. Not a Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Context

Last week the SGA president of the University I work at was shot and killed. It was finals week. He was someone I knew pretty well; an extraordinary kid. Then this weekend one of my aunts died. We weren't super close, but she was family and I was still rocked by her death. This weekend my brother stopped by and introduced me to a friend who was more local so they would have someone to check in on me. Mom was worried. 

Chapter 17 was written way yonks ago, but I went through and did some editing and then posted it, though not quite on time. It was kind of a struggle this weekend. 

Chapter 18 is technically also written, but the truth is, things are a little too much right now. (Edited for being too ... too.) Thank you for enjoying my stories. I'm really tired. 

I'm going to post 18 now and then maybe 19 if it looks okay. 20 isn't done enough to qualify as a chapter so that's likely to not happen. (Edit, I changed my mind). But that's all I got. and all I can deal with right now. It's not going to be too pristine, but honestly... I don't want to hold off posting as a punishment or something just because I'm mad and tired. It's not something conducive to Christmasy holidayish thoughts... 

So... give me a moment. It'll be raw, but there you go.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year.


End file.
